


Wedded To The World's Greatest Gunman

by author203



Series: Written By Request [4]
Category: Lupin III
Genre: Cruise, Drinking, F/M, Fan Service, Fluff, Forehead Kisses, Honeymoon, Lady problems, Love, Nudity, Red jacket i guess, Romance, Shirtless Jigen, Slow Romance, Sweet, THEY SNUGGLE, They are married, Written by Request, author is in love with a figment of some else's imagination, but lupin is hardly there, cgi jigen at the end/i just love his little vest and his tie tucked in, cursing, hot tub Jigen, i have never been on a cruise lol, i have to live with it, i just want jigen to be happy, it is sacred, jigen gets married, jigen is my favorite, just let him have this, just picture your favorite jigen when you read it, lots of naps and cuddles, mostly jigen/cameos of other characters, not sorry, part 2 jigen in the middle, pops is my second favorite, putting it in the tags so i dont put it in the notes, save it for marriage, sorry if that's gross, they do a lot more than that, you can probably read about it and be ok, you have seen the show you know how they are
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-12
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-18 22:47:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 24,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29989989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/author203/pseuds/author203
Summary: You and Jigen on your honeymoon cruise.
Relationships: Jigen Daisuke/Original Female Character(s), Jigen Daisuke/Reader, Jigen Daisuke/You
Series: Written By Request [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2046656
Kudos: 7





	Wedded To The World's Greatest Gunman

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SapphireHero2020](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SapphireHero2020/gifts).



> This took me more time than I thought it would, but I hope it was worth the wait.  
> Also, it is longer than I thought it would be, but that is just more Jigen for you to love. 
> 
> Reader discretion advised - because reasons: romance (it's their honeymoon, so stuff happens, but they are married, so it is ok), crude dialogue (they are guys and they talk about it), cursing (Jigen curses a lot in this one, but he has reasons), drinking (lots of drinking), etc.
> 
> I was given a lot to work with and hope I got it right. I really appreciate the idea/inspiration. Had a lot of fun working on this one, and hope you enjoy reading it.

**Wedded to the World's Greatest Gunman**

When he was alone, and thought no one else could hear, sometimes, not always, but when he was in a particularly good mood, sometimes Jigen would sing a little. His voice was roughened by his years of tobacco use, but still smooth enough to send a shiver through any woman who heard it.

He was in a hotel room – they all pretty much looked the same – staring at his reflection in the small bathroom's mirror, getting ready.

Ready for something he had never expected, never planned for. Never even considered could be a possibility. But here he was, slapping on that aftershave she loved, running a comb through his usually unruly hair.

“'I ain't ready for the altar, but I do agree there's times when a woman sure can be a friend of mine...'” He shrugged into a white dress shirt, started to button it. “'Well, I keep on thinking about you, sister golden hair surprise. And I just can't live without you, can't you see it in my eyes?'” He finished tying his bow tie, also white, though admittedly probably not the best color for him given his – he just referred to it as experience. He slid into his jacket, turned, found Lupin staring at him with that stupid look on his face.

Jigen frowned. “How long you been there?”

“Long enough,” the thief grinned. “You had better get ready. 'For the altar.' It's almost time.”

“I know. I know. Almost ready...”

“No, Jigen. You can't wear that hat. Not today. Not for this.”

“But...”

“Look, it's fine. I'll keep it safe for you. I promise. Now, here, let me...” Lupin started fussing with Jigen's hair, adjusted the bow tie.

“You're not my ma,” Jigen said, trying to sound annoyed, but he was too happy. Too eager. A rare grin splitting his usually sour face.

Lupin brushed some lint from his gunman's shoulder. “I know. I know. Just let me...” He pulled Jigen's sleeve, straightened the jacket a bit. The tux didn't fit as well as it should, but he wouldn't be in it very long. Not if he had anything to say about it. Not if she did. They had decided to wait. She had anyway. He had not been above trying to seduce her a couple of times, but she was on to him, made him walk the line. And the promise of the night ahead – finally being able to do the one thing that had been on his mind since he had wandered into her bakery – filled him about full-to-bursting whenever he thought about it. “Just look at you,” Lupin said, beaming. “Never thought I'd see this day.”

“Me either,” Jigen confessed. He was still sort of stunned by it, couldn't believe it was actually happening.

It almost hadn't.

They had planned on a Christmas wedding. But Lupin had wanted to pull a job a few days before. It hadn't gone well, and Jigen spent the holiday behind bars. It had been up to Lupin to explain what had happened and she had not spoken to any of them for over a week.

Then they thought, January. New year, new life, and all that. But Pops had caught up to them, and they had had to drop everything and make a run for it.

Now, here it was almost February, and they had finally worked it out, finally found a place where they could get it done, and now it was almost time.

Lupin had planned the honeymoon for him. Jigen wasn't much for details, but Lupin assured him it would be perfect. A lovers cruise for Valentine's Day. Nothing could top that.

“You sure?” Jigen had asked, skeptical. “I don't know that she's even been on a boat before... What if she gets seasick or something?”

“It'll be fine,” Lupin had promised. “These boats are like floating cities. Very unlikely she'll have problems.” Lupin booked the passage, arranged everything. “Consider this my wedding gift,” he had said.

“You ready, Ji-Ji?”

“I told you not to call me that.”

“Oh, Jigen-chan, can't I call you that today? It's such a special day.”

Jigen smiled a little, shook his head. “I guess just for today it would be all right.”

Lupin looked positively giddy, so Jigen reminded him, “But not in front of her. And don't make a habit of it.”

“I won't... You ready? 'For the altar'?”

“I reckon.”

“Great.” Before they left the room, Lupin fixed a white rose to Jigen's lapel, and then hugged his gunman so suddenly it sort of took Jigen's breath away. He hadn't expected it. Hadn't been ready. Couldn't have stopped it with an elbow or a headlock. “Let's get this show on the road. You're going to be so happy.”

“Yeah. Hope so,” was all Jigen said.

“I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride... NEXT!”

She stood in the hallway, a little outside the chapel area watching other couples line up to tie the knot.

It wasn't how she had pictured it at all. It wasn't anything like she had imagined it would be. When she had thought about it before, she had always thought it would be in a church in her home town, not that she was a regular church-goer, with friends, though she didn't have many, and family, though she had none now.

Her few friends she'd had, had lost touch after her father's sudden death years ago. They just couldn't handle her raw grief, didn't know what to say when she started randomly crying when they were having coffee or bowling. Movie nights had been awkward; game nights ruined. After a while, they had stopped inviting her places, telling each other she just needed some time. She would come back to them when she was ready. And after that, they had quit calling and texting too. Like they were afraid of her. Like her tragedy would rub off on them or something. Losing her friends, after losing her father, being abandoned that second time when she had needed them the most, and having to deal with her stepmother on top of all of it... It was too much. It had been such a chore just to make it from one day to the next. Just to find the strength to eat, sleep, survive. She thought she couldn't go on like that. Not for much longer. Then suddenly, her gunman drunkenly stumbled into her life and changed everything for the better.

Hard to believe that was only a few months ago. Less than half a year. Barely over a quarter.

She wanted her stepsister to be here. She wanted her to be a bridesmaid. Or a least a witness. But that was impossible. She was on the other side of the country now. And if she had told her stepsister, there was always the risk her stepmother would have found out, shown up to make a scene.

She wanted her father to be here. To walk her down the aisle...

“You know,” Fujiko said, standing next to her. “I'd cry too, if I had to marry that bearded loser. You don't have to go through with it.”

She shook her head. “No, I love him. I want this.”

“Then why...”

“I don't know... I've been on edge all week. The travel... The stress...” In the past few weeks she had been on three separate continents. Ones she had only read about before. This life was a whirlwind, but she wouldn't change it for anything.

“You knew it would be like this.”

“Yes, it's what I signed up for... It's just not how I thought it would be. How I thought this would be.” She held out the flowers, gestured around her at the flurry of activity. The strangers, all in line to the same thing she was about to do.

“You can pout that it's not perfect, or you can be happy that's happening. Your choice,” Fujiko said, matter-of-factly.

“I know. It is perfect. Just not how I thought it would be. I didn't say it was wrong. Just different... I don't know how to explain it. And... And I miss my dad. He was supposed to walk me... We had talked about this. If it ever happened, how it would go... This ring...” She stared at the snowflake ring on her finger that had once belonged to the mother she had never known, and that had almost been lost to the stepmother she still resented so bitterly.

Goemon was there with them, took her hand, said quietly, “I know I am not him. But I am honored.”

She hugged him with one arm, pulled Fujiko close with the other. “It means a lot that you could be here. Daisuke is really glad you could both be here. He'd never say it to you, so I'm telling you. Just don't say anything about it. But it means a lot. To both of us.”

Fujiko laughed a little. “I doubt that's true, but it's nice to hear anyway.”

“There he is.” Goemon pointed. “It must be time.” He offered an elbow, the way Jigen had taught him, and they waited for the music to start and Fujiko to proceed them. Fujiko never thought she'd be a bridesmaid, but there was a first time for everything. Lupin stared at her grinning the whole time, a question in his eyes. She shook her head at him, slightly, just a fraction, and he frowned, until Jigen elbowed him, told him to pay attention.

There he was. Her gunman. He'd be hers soon. And she'd be his. She couldn't wait for that. Had waited her whole life. The sight of him made her breath catch. She had seen him in a tux before, but somehow, this time, knowing what was about to happen, it was just a little bit different.

The snowflake ring sparkled on her hand. The flowers she held white, like her rented gown. It was a little worn, a few years out of style. Lupin had offered to steal something better. Even buy something better. But she had said it was fine. Jigen's tux was rented, her dress could be too. No one would remember details anyway.

Her hand trembled a bit as Jigen slid the matching wedding band on it. Rose gold, just like the snowflake ring. She did the same for him. His was larger – but his hands were bigger – a simple silver band she had chosen for him. At the jewelers he had asked, shouldn't they be the same color? Shouldn't they match? But she had wanted hers to match her mother's ring, and she thought silver looked better on him. “More manly,” she had said.

She had gone back without him knowing, had his engraved on the inside. _With love, from your Cupcake_.

She had thought about it and thought about it and overthought it. Asked Lupin and Goemon what they thought it should say. Fujiko had been no help at all. Should she use her real name? But she loved it so much when he called her Cupcake. And darling and muffin and whatever else he came up with. It didn't matter what he called her, as long as he was the one doing it.

They all called her Cupcake now. It had happened gradually, slowly enough that she didn't notice, had done nothing to stop it, and now it was just habit for them.

After a lot of internal debate, thinking out loud, and talking with herself, she had decided. Cupcake it would say, and only he would know. The words didn't show when he was wearing it, and she didn't think he would have occasion to ever take it off. Not if she had anything to say about it.

“I now pronounce you man and wife. Congratulations. You may kiss the bride. Pick up your license at the front desk.”

Jigen looked at her, smiling, waited until she gave a little nod. Then he put his hands on her hips, drew her close, and kissed her; Lupin whooping beside him, Goemon smiling through his blush, while Fujiko rolled her eyes. Just like that first time he had kissed her under the mistletoe in the bakery. Just like her first kiss, except this time with an audience, and the minister, waving them aside to make room for the next couple in line. She tossed her flowers to a bride who didn't have any on their way out as they left the chapel.

This was the happiest moment in her recent memory – it had been a rough few years – so she couldn't understand why, why did she feel like sobbing? She felt overwhelmed when her husband – that astounded her, her _husband_ – took her hand, rubbed his thumb across her knuckles, as was his habit, caressed the rings that rested there.

“I love you,” she whispered.

“Wait until I get you alone, and can show you just how much.”

She didn't say anything.

“Cupcake?” He studied her face.

She looked at him. Her husband, she told herself one more time. How was it possible?

Her face pinched as an unexpected pain slashed across her middle. It was sharp enough that she gasped and squeezed his hand. “Are you ok?” he said, both looking and sounding worried.

“I just need... Excuse me... please... Oh,” She let go of his hand, ducked into a restroom they were passing.

Jigen just stood there, staring at the wooden door with its little silhouette of a bride, wondering what he had done wrong. Lupin turned back, but Jigen waved him away, said they'd catch up at the restaurant. Goemon and Fujiko followed the thief, left Jigen standing there in the hallway alone.

He waited a little while. Standing there, fiddling with his new ring, not used to the feel of it yet. Twirling it around his finger with his right hand. Taking it off, reading the words. Putting it back on. Twirling it some more. He had worn one before as part of a disguise, but this one was real. This one Cupcake had chosen for him. This one; this one fit. Perfectly.

There was a bench nearby, and after a little while longer he sat down, perched on the edge, his knees together. He would have tugged his hat brim, but he wasn't wearing it. Lupin's fault. He wanted to smoke, but he couldn't do that here. And he was not about to leave. He would be here, waiting for her when she came out. So they could walk together to the restaurant, celebrate at their wedding feast. He tapped his foot a little, drummed his fingers on his knee. Checked his watch.

What was she doing in there? He knew women took their time in a bathroom, but this was starting to cross the border into ridiculous.

He waited another fifteen minutes, before he went over and knocked on the door softly. “Cupcake? You ok?”

Her voice wavered when she said, “Will you send Fujiko in here, please?”

“Fujiko? Why... You'll have to come out soon, if we want to make the reservation. Lupin said they won't hold the table if we aren't all there.”

“Daisuke.” She sounded distressed, and he was at a loss for what to do. If there weren't so many people around watching, he would have gone in himself, asked what was going on to her face. But it didn't seem like the time or the place. And he was beyond certain that whatever was going on, Fujiko would just make it worse. He had been silent a moment too long, heard her call, “Daisuke?”

“Sure, Cupcake, sure. Whatever you think you need...” He put his phone to his ear, called Fujiko, watching the door, rooted to the spot. Fujiko came, surprisingly with very little persuasion on his part.

She disappeared behind the door and Jigen waited. A short while later, Fujiko emerged, and Jigen stepped forward to block her path. “What's wrong?”

“Nothing. It's fine.”

“Nothing? It can't be nothing.”

“Just sit over there. I'll be back.”

Jigen's mouth turned down, but he nodded, returned to the bench. He leaned forward, put his elbows on his knees, idly twirled the ring some more, his head down, his gaze on his hands.

Fujiko returned, carrying some of Cupcake's clothes, a handbag.

If she had only want to change out of the dress before they went to eat, she could have just said so. He would have taken her back to the room, waited patiently while she took care of herself. Maybe helped her out of the dress, kissed the back of her neck when he unzipped it, caressed her shoulders... He had best not think about that any more right now.

He waited a little longer until Fujiko came out first, carrying the gown folded over her arms. He looked at her questioningly, said very quietly, “Does she... Does she want an annulment? They do those too, over by the gift shop...”

Fujiko laughed at him, and his face turned red. “You won't get rid of her that easily. She's over the moon about you.”

Jigen sighed his relief. “But then why...”

Fujiko laughed again. “Lady problems. And don't you dare say anything stupid. She's terrified you'll be disappointed.”

Confused, Jigen said, “I don't understand. What do you mean? 'Lady problems?'”

Fujiko patted his cheek in a pitying sort of way, answered, “Just think about it real hard. I'm sure you'll figure it out.”

“Why would I be disappointed... Lady...” It dawned on him suddenly, his eyes wide. “Oh... you mean...” She nodded. “Oh!”

Fujiko laughed again, went to find Lupin, tell him everything was all right, return the dress at the rental counter. They'd lose the deposit on it, but that didn't matter. They had money to burn, and when it ran out, well, they'd just steal some more.

Jigen was so relieved that's all it was, that she wasn't in there having second thoughts about him, about them. He sighed again, sat back down, a little more relaxed now. And waited a little while longer.

She wasn't sure how long she had been in here. A half-hour at least. Maybe longer. She had had a good cry, and felt better. She shouldn't be crying now. She truly was so very happy. But also empty, missing her father, feeling nervous and alone. But she wasn't alone. She had a husband now. And his friends were here too. Why did everything have to be so complicated all the time? Why did she have to feel like this? On her wedding day?

Maybe it was a good thing – what was that old saying? Crying bride, laughing wife, or something? She couldn't remember.

And now _this_.

She had not been prepared for this. Never knew when it would happen. It always took her by surprise, she could never plan for it. It only ever came at the most inconvenient times, right when she least expected it. It had been a few months since the last one. So why now?

And the pain. The pain she could live without. Like her organs were in a fist that just kept squeezing tighter and tighter. Completely unrelenting. For days. It wasn't as bad right now as it would be tomorrow and the next day. She was not looking forward to that. Maybe she could sleep through the worst of it. Hopefully.

Once again she envied those women who could narrow it down to a week, or even knew on which day. And those mythical creatures that claimed to know which hour. It was unfair that such people could even exist. How was it possible for so many others, but never for her? Just lucky, she guessed. And it was par for the course, with how everything in her life had gone so far. Of course, it would happen now – of course now when she had been married not even an hour.

She felt a little better now that she had cried it out, was back in her own clothes. That dress had been a little tight around her shoulders and hips. She cleaned herself up a bit. Washed her face, fixed her hair. Thank goodness for Fujiko. At least she knew what do about it. The other three would have been useless.

She took a deep breath, and braced herself.

She peaked around the door, saw him sitting across the hall. He stood up immediately, as soon as he saw her, came forward, held out his hand.

She took it, said, “I'm sorry,” while he asked in the same instant, “You ok?”

She nodded shyly, and he hugged her close, pressed her face to his chest. She wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed. “I didn't know what was going on... I was worried,” he confessed.

“You don't get to worry. You're the one that gets shot at. I'm the one who worries.”

He could tell she had been crying, and that made him uneasy.

“Our wedding night...” she said with remorse. She looked up at him, waited for what he would say. He always knew just what to say. Could always make her feel better just by uttering gentle words in his now familiar voice. “I'm sorry,” she said again.

“Don't be. Don't be, Cupcake. There's absolutely no reason at all for you to be sorry. You could never do anything to disappoint me.”

“But...”

“No, no,” he assured her. “We've waited this long. We can wait a little longer. We'll just have more fun on the boat. Something more to look forward to.”

“Boat?”

“Oh, right. You don't know yet.” He released her, took her hand, just stood there. “I was going to tell you at dinner. It was supposed to be a surprise. Lupin bought us a cruise. For our honeymoon.”

“How nice of him.”

“He can be a good friend... sometimes.”

She smiled. “He is.”

“You know,” he said, as he leaned closer, planted a kiss on her cheek, his beard scratching her face. “It'll be kind of nice to have two anniversaries.”

She stared at him, puzzled.

So he continued, “One everyone else knows about, when we signed the papers and said the words. And one just for us. When we... for the first time... are finally... you know... together.”

“You can just say consummate.” His face turned red, and she laughed. He wished he had his hat brim to tug down.

It felt good to laugh then, even with the knife twisting in her gut.

He didn't know what to say to that, so he just nodded, raised her hand to his lips, kissed the rings. He cleared his throat, changed the subject. “So what now? Do you want me to take you back? Or do you want to go the restaurant? Tell me what you need.”

“We have to eat anyway. And everyone is waiting for us.”

“You sure?”

She nodded, squeezed his hand. It was so nice to have someone ask. To say what can I do for you? What do you need? What would help? What would make you feel better? Not she knew the answer to any of those questions, but it was nice that he should ask.

“Ok, Cupcake. Whatever you want. Just let me know. Let me know if you need anything, or when you've had enough... I know how they can be...”

She smiled, knowingly. His friends were hers too now, and she knew exactly how they could be. How they were sometimes better in small doses. But this was supposed to be a celebration. And she was looking forward to spending it with them.

She had taken too long. The restaurant had given away their table. She felt bad about that, but there was a burger place across the street, so they made their way over there. It wasn't so crass as to have a drive-thru – it was a sit-down place, with an expansive menu, and surprisingly, a rather decent wine list. It was just as good as that other place would have been, and here she didn't feel under-dressed. If anything, the others stood out a little.

She ordered a salad; she really didn't feel like eating, wanted something light. But when Daisuke's burger came, almost as big around as the plate it rested on, dripping with grease, oozing cheese and other things, she had asked for a taste, ended up eating more half. He had laughed, ate what she left for him, finished off her salad, before they shared a dessert.

Lupin got a little more than tipsy – he was celebrating as hard as possible, didn't want Jigen to feel like there was any doubt or second thoughts on his part. He had been against it in the beginning, warning about getting in too deep and such, because Jigen was useless with his heart broken, and Lupin had seen it happen too many times before. But now he was just as, if not more, happy as his gunman about the new addition to their little crime family.

The thief gave a loud, long, teary speech so full of emotion Jigen lowered his hat, maybe cleared his throat more than once. Lupin said how Cupcake had sweetened all of their lives, how he had always hoped his gunman would hit the target and find a better half, how he had never seen Jigen so happy, how he had caught him singing or saying Cupcake's name in his sleep, how soon it would be Goemon's turn, how please Fujicakes, the chapel is right there, can't we be man and wife just this once, I'll divorce you tomorrow, if that's what you want. And on and on.

“You've had enough. Time to get you to bed.”

“You mean it?” Lupin asked.

“Not like that. Idiot.” But Fujiko was smiling at him when she said it.

By the end of the evening, Lupin was strung between Goemon and Fujiko, one arm around each of them as they stumbled back toward the hotel. Jigen watched the thief whisper something to Goemon, who turned bright red, and the gunman thought whatever that was had probably been meant for Fujiko. He chuckled a bit under his breath, watching his friends retreat.

The other three left him sitting at the table with his bride – his wife. He still couldn't believe it. She deserved a hell of a lot better than the likes of him. How was this happening?

“Your bill.” Jigen took it and laughed. Of course, Lupin would plan this celebration, order enough booze to drown a cow, then slip out before the bill came. Well, he was in such a good mood it didn't matter, didn't even phase him. He paid it in cash, and left a huge tip besides. He'd just take a little more out of the next payoff. It all came out even eventually.

She was staring at him, but hadn't said anything in a while.

“Cupcake?”

“You know how you said I just need to tell you... if I need anything...”

“Sure, sure.” He waited, but she didn't say anything more right away. Just looked around to make sure no one was close and could over hear. Then she tugged his shoulder, drew him down so she was close to his ear and whispered something.

His eyes widened. “You need what now?”

He got her settled in the room – the honeymoon suite – before making his way down to the hotel gift shop. He could handle this, he kept telling himself. He knew how to fly a plane, could maneuver a helicopter with such finesse that he could angle the rope ladder right into Lupin's waiting hand, swerve a boat so that the wake would capsize any pursuers.

This was nothing like any of that. This would be easy. He could handle this. This was... This was something he had never had to do before... If they had wings, couldn't they just fly to her on their own... What did that even mean? Wings? No wings? He almost called Fujiko. But he had had enough of her laughing at him for one day.

He searched for a while on his own until the cashier took pity on him and asked if he needed help. He sputtered some unintelligible nonsense, tugged his hat brim down, felt like a damn fool. At a loss, he held out the scrap of paper Cupcake had scribbled on.

“Oh, yes. We have that. Right over here.” She found what he had been sent for, helped him finish his transaction.

He thanked her quietly, before making a hasty retreat.

When he got back, Cupcake rummaged through the bag, looked disappointed. “Chocolate pretzels?”

“They didn't have any.” He hated disappointing her, so he rushed to add, “But I brought these.”

He held out an orange and yellow package.

He had tried so hard. He had really made an effort. She knew it would crush him when she said, “I don't like peanut butter.” But she said it anyway. It was such a small thing, such a tiny detail. But she didn't want any secrets between them.

“I hadn't known.” There was so much he didn't know about her. What if it was too much? “But I know now. And I'll remember.” He started to put his suit coat back on. “I'll get something else. What do you want?”

“Daisuke, it's fine. I want you to sit down.”

“But you need –”

“I need you.”

“But...”

“Daisuke. I'm not dying. I've lived through this before.”

He stood there, halfway toward the door, just looking confused. It was funny almost. This man, who had traveled to every corner of the earth, served in militias of third world countries, been a bodyguard in the mafia, this hardened criminal, standing there looking so lost and forlorn because he had brought the wrong kind of chocolate.

“Husband,” she said it quietly, reached out a hand from her spot on the couch where she was bundled in soft pajamas and blankets, willed him to come back to her.

“Wife.” He came over and sat next to her.

“Still sounds weird.”

“Doesn't it, though?” He laughed a little.

She undid his bow-tie, took his hat from him, placed both on the little side table. Pulled off his suit coat and tossed it over the nearby chair.

She wanted to kiss him. Wanted to do so much more than that. It was their right now. Now that they were wed.

It just wasn't fair.

“There's a western on, if you want to watch...”

“Whatever you think is best, Cupcake.” He turned sideways a bit, leaned against the armrest. She scooted over to lay on his chest, her arms around his middle. He shifted a bit, kicked off his shoes, put his long legs up on the couch. Then he pulled her up, a little closer, so he could kiss her forehead. He stroked her hair a bit, rubbed her back. “I'm sorry about the peanut butter.”

“You couldn't have known.”

“I've seen you bake peanut butter cookies before.”

“But did you ever see me eat one?”

He thought back over their brief whirlwind courtship. If it could even be called a courtship. Stolen moments in her apartment before bakery opened. Kneading dough in the middle of the night. That one time he had taken her to eat, and buy a dress. The Christmas ball. The night he proposed. It had happened so fast. And he realized, that no, he probably hadn't seen her eat a peanut butter cookie in that short time. “We have a lot to learn about each other,” he admitted.

“And a lifetime to find out.”

“Mm-hmm.” He hoped she was right, but he wouldn't think about that now.

This certainly hadn't gone how he thought it would. Not at all. He tried very, very hard to not be disappointed. And if he was, he tried even harder to not let it show.

There was still something nice about her pressed against him, her perfume strong in his nose. It might have been a far cry from what he had pictured, but it wasn't bad. Maybe there was a lesson somewhere in that. Don't expect too much, and just enjoy it as it comes.

It was a movie he had seen before, one that hadn't been able to hold his interest the first time, and soon, with Cupcake snuggled up against him, everything soft and quiet and warm, full of good food, and dulled by the wine from dinner, worn out from the day's excitement, the ups and downs and unexpected developments, he nodded off.

She hadn't noticed he was asleep until he started snoring softly. His heartbeat in her ear, she thought about their time together. What he meant to her. How different her life would be without him. How she'd still be trapped in that bakery, slaving for the stepmother she hated. How thankful she was for him. That he had given her the courage to set herself free.

And even with her insides trying to come out, she still slept better with her gunman as her pillow than she had in all the time since her father had been taken from her.

Jigen woke up in the night – a sound from the tv probably. It flickered in the dark, volume low. He was stiff from sleeping half sitting up on the couch. He wanted badly to stand and stretch, maybe go to the real bed in the next room. But Cupcake was on top of him, sleeping so soundly he didn't dare move. She couldn't be comfortable curled up like that, but he didn't wake her.

So. It hadn't been a dream. She was here. And she was his. Incredible that such a thing had occurred. He had always been a gambler, but he never would have bet on something as outlandish as this. The odds against it were far too great.

He moved his arm slightly, just to hug her a little closer, and closed his eyes again, a smile on his lips.

It was about a week and a half or so before the boat was scheduled to set sail, and the newlyweds spent that time together just talking, laughing, whispering sweet meaningless things neither would remember.

During that time, Jigen taught her to play poker, so she could stand a chance against the rest of them, and he had laughed when she bluffed Lupin – Lupin, the best liar of all of them – right out of the winning pot.

She helped him play chess a little better. He had yet to win, but he came close a few times.

These quiet moments together were exquisite. Jigen admitted it was nice to be in one place for more than a day. And with her beside him, well, so much the better.

He couldn't wait for them to be together – really together, yes, like that – and he tried so very hard to be patient. He consoled himself with thoughts of the cruise. Once they were on the boat, all bets were off. The way she looked at him, the way he would turn and catch her smiling at him, the way when she was caught, she would blush and look away.

The first couple of days after they had been married, she had been a scrunched up ball of pain. It had unnerved him, hearing her groan in her sleep, when there wasn't a damn thing he could do to help, to make it better. But he tried. He did his best. He went into town and found the chocolate pretzels. The right brand, and the largest bag he could buy. Fujiko told him to find a hot water bottle. He rubbed her back, her shoulders.

After that first night curled together on the couch in their suite, Jigen suggested they sleep in the bed. “You'll be more comfortable,” he had said. She hadn't answered, just looked shy and vulnerable – not really like her, she was fiery with a strong spirit, both sassy and sentimental. It was what he loved about her.

So he sort of took charge, folded back the covers, fluffed her pillows, tucked her in.

“Aren't you going to...”

“Later,” he said. “Just relax. Going to smoke. Talk to Lupin for a minute.”

“Tell them I said hello.”

“Will do.”

“I'll miss you.”

“Not too much,” he advised.

“Enough.”

“Good. I wouldn't want you not to miss me.”

She smiled when he leaned down to kiss her forehead. It was something they had said before, said often now, one or the other saying 'enough' depending on who had started it. It always ended with a smile, a forehead kiss.

“I love you,” she said, settling in, hugging a pillow.

He just patted her shoulder, said, “And I can't wait to show you just how much,” before he left her alone in the dark to spend a minute or two with his friends.

“That man,” she whispered into the pillow she was hugging. “He will be a good husband.”

He came back an hour or two later. She hadn't heard him come in, or get ready for bed. But she woke when he lifted the blankets, slid in beside her, still far enough away that they weren't touching.

She was on her side, her back to him. “Have fun?” she asked, sleepily.

“Yeah.”

“News?”

“They're leaving in a few days. 'To give us privacy' he said,” and Jigen laughed a little. He knew it wasn't so much consideration for him and Cupcake, as a score waiting to be had elsewhere.

“Really?”

“Yeah. And a few days after they're gone, we'll be on our way too.”

“Tell me again. How it will be.”

He wasn't sure what 'it' was. The cruise. Or _it._ He didn't know what she meant. So instead he said, “It's late.”

She didn't say anything. He reached an arm around her middle, drew her close to him, pulled her against his chest, her hips nestled against his. His thighs pressed against the backs of hers. His hand may or may not have strayed a little higher, may or may not have caressed something round and sensitive. After a slight hesitation, she burrowed closer to his warmth.

For as long as she could remember, she had always slept alone. How nice and new and strange, to have him here, holding her, gently, his strong arm there to keep her safe. There was something different about being in bed with him – different from falling asleep a tangle of arms and legs on the couch. She wasn't sure how or why, but it was.

“It will be wonderful,” he whispered, and he felt her nod against him.

In another few minutes he was snoring, and rather than be annoyed by the noise, it served as her lullaby.

“Here you are, sir and madam. Our largest, most luxurious honeymoon suite.”

“It's enormous,” she said with wonder, coming in, looking around.

“Yeah, thanks,” Jigen said as he slipped the guy a tip, sent him away, carried the bags in on his own.

She was right; the place was huge. Even bigger than a few of Lupin's apartment hideouts he kept in various cities around the world. The thief had outdone himself. The suite consisted of a few rooms, a sitting area, a hot tub near the balcony, a balcony, a bathroom big enough to park a truck in.

A bedroom. Tastefully decorated, with a huge king-size bed taking up most of the space. Jigen tried not to stare at it as he set the bags in the corner. There were roses on one of the night stands, a fruit bowl on the coffee table in the living room.

And gift baskets crowding every surface, in every room. These were from Lupin too, obviously. All the gift tags bore his little cartoon doodle signature. Some of the messages were wholesome and heartfelt, others were a bit crude and very Lupin-ish. Jigen tried to get rid of those before she could see them. His coat pocket was half full by the time she came out of the bathroom.

Some of the gift baskets were actually thoughtful. One had Jigen's favorite whiskey, an expensive blend only available in certain countries. There was champagne and wine, coffee and tea. Another held movies, westerns for him, rom-coms for her. There were books, from practically every genre, because though Lupin knew she liked to read, he was clueless as to what. There was a basket of music, mostly collections of love songs but also some classical mixed in, a little jazz. _To set the mood_ , the card had read. Chocolates and snack foods. Beef jerky, potato chips. Things with no nutritional value. Things Jigen could appreciate.

Of course, Lupin, being Lupin had also included a couple of inappropriate gift baskets, filled with things that only married people should have need of. Which they were now. But still. These, with their various devices and batteries and lotions and lingerie and other things he scooped up and stashed in the back of the closet out of sight, before she had a chance to see them. They wouldn't be needing all that. She wouldn't be ready for all that. He would keep it simple, natural.

He spent a few minutes checking over the rooms out of habit, but he didn't find anything. No listening devices, or hidden cameras. None of Lupin's gadgets in the walls or under the furniture. It looked like, to Jigen, that maybe for once Lupin would be true to his word and actually leave him a bit of privacy.

“I'm ready,” she said.

He turned, looked at her, checked his watch. “Yeah, it is about that time, I guess.”

He did not want to sit through the poolside movie. He had other things on his mind. But Cupcake had told him that she had never been on a cruise and wanted what she called “the full experience.” That meant some nights they'd have to dress for dinner, sit poolside in the sun, maybe some dancing, maybe some gambling, maybe a show, she didn't know, but she wanted to do it all, and the first thing she wanted to do was see the poolside movie.

Jigen saw it as just one more hurdle, one more obstacle, one more thing he had to wait out until they could be – finally – together.

She stifled a yawn as they left the room, reached for his hand as they walked down the hallway. She was always holding his hand, she thought. How nice to now have a hand to hold.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

What did she mean where were they going? It was her idea. She had insisted on it. Even though he had said quite plainly that there were much better ways to spend their time together than with a bunch of strangers watching some sappy romance that – might he point out – they had seen three times already. _It's a classic_ , she had said. _One of my favorites_ , she had reminded him. So he had conceded. It was a short movie, and maybe he could make it work in his favor. When the hero kissed the girl, Jigen could whisper something romantic or lewd depending on how the mood struck him, steal her away back to the cabin, and then... The movie had a ninety-six minute run time if they sat through the credits, which he did not intend to do.

“To the pool,” he answered her.

“No, silly,” she said pulling him up the stairs, into the fading sunlight. “The boat. Where is the boat going?”

He laughed at that. Shouldn't she know? Hadn't he told her? “Oh, Bahamas. Tropical islands. Sun, sand, sea. You know, paradise.”

“I think I'm already there,” she said seriously, squeezing his hand, looking at him until he blushed. What had he done to deserve her? Nothing in this life for sure.

Seems like everyone else on the boat had had the same idea. The place around the pool where the screen had been set up was crowded. The lounge chairs were all full. The tables, with their folded umbrellas waiting for tomorrow's sun, were all full. Jigen smirked, and started to think about how he could say, well there's no room here let's go back, without it sounding too eager, too desperate.

But, unfortunately, there was a bench there, empty, and she pulled him toward it. Fine. It was fine. He had waited this long. Just a little while longer.

The movie started as the sun was setting. He stretched out his long legs, crossed them at the ankles, leaned back, pushed his hat up a fraction, and settled in. She tucked herself up under his arm, and rested her head on his shoulder. It was a comfortable posture, one they were used to now. He focused on the movie, because he didn't want his mind wandering too much.

About halfway through he noticed she had been very quiet. Didn't laugh at her favorite part. He hadn't heard her sniffling during the funeral scene that made her cry every time. He had asked her about it once, since they had seen it before and she knew it was coming, why it still caught her so off guard. She hadn't been able to explain it, but Jigen thought it had a lot to do with her father's untimely death. He hadn't pushed that, but he had asked why watch it at all if it is only going to upset you? Her answer had surprised him. She had told him it was good to feel something again, even if that something was mournful because she had felt nothing for so long she had almost forgotten what it felt like to feel. He hadn't liked hearing that, didn't want her to feel that way, but Jigen being Jigen had let it drop, and just nodded, and kissed her forehead.

She wasn't crying now. Like everyone on the screen, and most of the people in the audience. He looked down and saw that she was sleeping. Sleeping! Of course. Of course, she was.

She may have left the bakery behind, but it still lingered. She still got tired in the early afternoon, still woke up in the middle of the night. She would turn over in bed, and Jigen would wake when he felt her watching him, and he would mumble something like the sun isn't up, you shouldn't be either. She would scoot close to him then, and he would put an arm around her, and they would doze a little more until he thought it was a more appropriate time to get up.

So. Not tonight either. Fine. Maybe tomorrow. There was always tomorrow.

The movie ended and the crowd cleared out, moved to the bars or the restaurants or the theaters or the dance floors or the casinos. Lupin had been right. This place had everything.

He waited until they were mostly gone. Until it was just him and his Cupcake there poolside on that bench that was hard on his backside. You'd think with what they charged to ride on this boat, they could provide a seat cushion.

He lifted his gaze from Cupcake's face to the horizon. Took in the ocean, the stars, the moon reflecting off the water, the salt in the air, his wife beside him using him as a pillow again, her breath even and slow, and he thought, _Yeah, paradise. A good word for this._

He sat there a little longer, was in no hurry, thinking about his life and how he never would have believed any of this possible just a short while ago. How he still had a hard time believing it now, when he was right in the middle of it.

“Come on, Cupcake,” he said, quietly, one arm already around her, he shifted his other under her knees, lifted her easily as he stood.

“Mmm.”

“I'll put you to bed,” he sighed. Putting her to bed and bedding her were two very, very different things, and he tried hard to not be frustrated. As a sniper, he had plenty of patience, but even he had his limits.

He took his time, was careful on the stairs, walked slowly back to their rooms, just enjoying to feel of her against him, the weight of her in his arms. An older couple came out of an elevator holding hands, the white haired woman smiling at him, the man nodding knowingly. Jigen was a little saddened at the sight of them. He had always known he wouldn't get old, his lifestyle wouldn't afford him the chance, but it had never mattered before. Now it did. What would Cupcake do on her own? When she had nothing left, not the bakery, not her father, not Jigen, nothing to help her in this wayward world? He didn't want to think about it.

This was the first time he had held her like this – the first time he had carried her over a threshold, and she wasn't even awake to appreciate it. Well, that was fine. He'd just do it again when she was awake to share the moment.

He laid her down on the huge bed, and she woke up as he did. She looked up at him tiredly. “I'm sorry,” she started. “I don't know why I'm so tired.”

“That salt air and sunshine take a lot out of a person,” he said, taking off his hat, laying it on the nightstand.

She sat up, found her pajamas, went to brush her teeth. She had thought tonight would be the night. Their second anniversary as he had called it. But she was spent, and didn't have anything left to give.

She didn't know how to tell him. He had waited for marriage because she had insisted. He had waited until they were on the cruise, even though they had had opportunity before. He had wanted to, of course, but he also thought it might be better once they were out to sea and there was less of a chance of Lupin interrupting them.

Tonight. Tonight was supposed to be their night.

She was upset at letting him down one more time. Starting to feel unsure. Why had he chosen her? Why did he stay? A man like him – he could have anyone. So why her?

She came out of the bathroom, didn't see him. “Daisuke?”

“Here,” he called from the living room. He was on the couch, his tie loose, his shirt sleeves rolled up, one foot propped up on the opposite knee, sipping a whiskey.

“I think I'm going to go to –” she almost said bed, but caught herself, paused. “To sleep.”

“Good dreams then, darling, I guess.”

“You ok?”

“Yeah.” He looked up at her from where he sat, gave a weak halfhearted smile. Couldn't get that older couple out of his head.

She looked unsure, but nodded, and went to bed. She was exhausted, but couldn't sleep. Kept thinking about _it_. About him in the other room drinking, and what looked like to her a lot like sulking.

When he joined her much later, she thought for sure he would turn his back, stay on his side on the bed this time. But he had slipped under the covers, then pulled her close just like every night before.

She held his hand that rested close to her chest, and was reassured by his nearness, that lingering tobacco stench that clung to him, that soft smell of his spicy aftershave. She fell asleep with her fingers on his ring, thinking once again how lucky she was to have been the one to put it there.

She woke up before he did as usual, but later than she would have thought. She must have been tired. The sun was already up. She rummaged through her suitcase for something cute to wear. Not that she had a lot to choose from. She had always chosen comfort over style, had always just worn whatever would look decent under an apron, something she wouldn't mind getting stained.

She had to remind herself that she wasn't a baker anymore. She was a wife now. Not that she couldn't be both. She wondered why she still thought about it so much.

“How about this?” she asked herself, holding up a flowing, flowery blouse that had been a gift from Fujiko. It wasn't the most comfortable thing she owned, but it did look nice. “Yes, this is just the thing.”

It hadn't been the bakery she decided, but the 'owner.' Her stepmother. And when Daisuke had found her father's will and given it back to her, she had given it and everything else up to follow him around the world.

The bakery had not been her dream, but rather her father's. She thought of it now as she stared at her reflection, seeing his features there, the cheekbones, the forehead. She brushed her hair, and then put it up into a style she had seen on a magazine cover that, if not seductive, was at least alluring.

She remembered when she had been very little, standing on a chair to reach the counter while her father had taught her fractions using the ingredients, the difference between baking powder and baking soda, how long to knead a dough, which spices went with which pastries and how different combinations could bring out entirely new flavors. When she had gotten a little older, and could reach the counter without a chair, he had taught her the family recipes. They had spent most of their lives together with a mixing bowl between them.

She hadn't known it then – no one ever does – that those simple, ordinary moments would become some of her most cherished memories.

She would not admit that she sort of missed being in a kitchen, the air warm and heady with the scent of baking things.

Dressed and satisfied with her reflection, she left her husband snoring and wandered to the breakfast café a few decks above. She ordered a few croissants, a hot chocolate for herself, his coffee the way he liked it.

They would have breakfast together. She had it all planned out. She would make up for last night, and all the times before. They wouldn't wait a moment longer. She wouldn't even wait until dark. She didn't care that it was broad daylight. Who would ever know?

He was up and dressed when she got back to the cabin. She found him on the balcony, smoking, leaning against the rail, staring at the water. There was a book on the little side table from the basket Lupin had sent.

“Wondered where you got off to,” he said, straightening, taking the coffee she offered, pecking her cheek.

“You don't have to wear a suit and tie every day. This is supposed to be a vacation.”

“Says the lady all dressed up... Hair looks nice... Going somewhere?”

“Hadn't planned to. Wanted to spend some time with the love of my life. That is, if he's not too busy?”

His face got that little half-smiling smirk that melted her heart. “Really? Somebody I should know about? This love of your life?”

“He's dangerous.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. He happens to be the world's greatest gunman.”

“Does he, now?”

“Handsome. In a rugged sort of way.”

“Hmm, you think so?”

“Quiet sometimes. Thoughtful.”

“Yeah?”

“A gentleman, usually. But...”

“But?”

“But he's a thief.”

“Oh?” Jigen smiled. “And what did he steal?”

“My heart, obviously.”

He laughed, and she was glad to hear it. They sat in the deck chairs on the balcony, ate their breakfast in the morning sun. She blushed when he told her that hers were better, referring to the croissants.

“Remember the first time I brought you coffee?” he wondered.

“I do,” she said.

“You wouldn't drink it,” he recalled.

“I didn't know you. Didn't trust you... yet.”

“Hmm. It wasn't really all that long ago. What changed?”

“Not sure. But whatever it was, I'm glad it did.”

He smiled softly at that, said “Me too.”

They sat there in silence for a while, just holding hands, her watching the water, him reading the book. She stole a glance at the cover. Something about a healthy marriage and love languages. Not something she knew a lot about, but it did her heart good to see him reading it.

She was preoccupied thinking about _it_. Going over and over in her mind what little she knew about it, what bits and pieces she had gathered from movies, her romance novels. She didn't know what to do, how to get started, what to expect. Should she just say it? Should she just tell him _Now! Take me now!_ Her cheeks burned red when she thought those words. So maybe not that. But she had to say something. He didn't seem inclined to do anything but sit there with her beside him. In no hurry to do anything but turn pages in that book, glance up every once in a while to enjoy the ocean view.

“Daisuke?”

“Hmm?”

“What do you look like without your tie?”

What kind of fool question was that? She had seen him without it before. He studied her face. Oh! She meant... “Like this,” he said, plopping the book on the side table, not bothering to mark his place, loosening the knot as quickly as possible. He rolled it up, shoved it in his jacket pocket along with its clip.

“What do you... what do you look like without your hat?”

He took it off, perched it on his knee, looked at her, grinning. Finally. Finally! Finally, it was happening.

“What do you look like without your suit coat?”

“Why don't we mosey on into the bedroom? I'll let you take it off, and you can see for yourself.”

She shivered a bit, but not because she was cold. She nodded, stood when he did. He took her hand, pulled her into the bedroom. She stood there in the middle of it awkwardly, fingering the hem of her shirt.

He put on some music from the basket Lupin had sent. Something soft and classical, something she had heard him listen to before. Maybe that was his go-to? Maybe that was what he had played before when he had been with other women?

Oh – she did not want to think of him being with other women. She had no idea... What if she wasn't any good at it? She couldn't bear the thought of disappointing him, after she had shot him down so many times before.

Now that they were on the brink, all she could think about was being good enough, pleasing him... But how?

She watched him put his gun on the nightstand, place his hat over it. He sat down on the edge of the bed. It was still disheveled from the night before. “Here,” he said. “Come sit here.” And he patted the mattress beside him.

She obeyed.

“There's no rush,” he promised her. “We'll take it nice and slow.” He paused. “I'll make it good for you.”

She swallowed, nodded. Slipped her hands between his suit coat and dress shirt. The shirt smooth under her fingers, that soft blue color she loved that brought out the gunmetal gray of his eyes, pushed the coat down his shoulders. He kissed her gently, like he had done often before and she tilted her head back a bit to welcome him.

She drew back, a hand on his chest pushing him a small distance away. She wasn't sure how to ask her next question, so she just blurted it out. “You have... um... protection?”

He thought of the small square boxes in that inappropriate gift basket. Lupin must have gone through his things at one point to know which ones, what size. There was no keeping secrets from the thief. If Lupin wanted to know something – anything – he'd find a way to find out. “Sure, Cupcake. Of course. If you want that. But there's no need.”

“Why wouldn't there be a need? What if there's a...” She wanted to say _baby_ , but couldn't bring herself to. She had never really thought of herself as a mother – although after living with her stepmother, the bar was pretty low, and she was sure she would be better at it than her. She didn't think she was ready, but knew it wasn't out of the realm of possibility. She had just never had to consider it before. She had never been this close before.

“There won't be.”

“How can you be so sure?” She had taken biology years and years ago, she knew the clinical terms, and the result of the equation sperm plus egg.

“I had that taken care of a long time ago,” he said quietly.

She looked at him, realizing what he meant. “You can never be a father?” And she was surprised to find herself saddened at the knowledge. She wasn't ready now, but that didn't mean she wouldn't be someday. And she thought suddenly of her family recipes. No one to hand them down to. “Never?”

“The procedure can be reversed, but I won't go through it again, so no, I can't.”

“Do you regret that? At all?”

“Honestly?” He ran a hand through his hair, rubbed the back of his neck. “I never thought I'd be a husband. And my life, well, it's not one for children... It was a good decision on my part, I think.”

“Oh.” He was right. But she was still a little surprised at the news. It wasn't something they had talked about. It had never come up. Until now. Maybe there was too much they didn't know. Maybe they shouldn't have rushed into this like they had.

“Here,” he said. “May I?” He put his hands on her shoulders, moved them inward to caress her throat, then downward and set to work on the buttons of her blouse.

“Only if I can too,” she answered. She started to undo his shirt buttons, fumbling, nervous, her fingers sweating. She wondered if she had said the right thing. She felt foolish and vulnerable. Gasped when his hand found its way inside her shirt, over her chest. That seemed to encourage him, and he felt a little lower, the skin of her stomach soft under his rough hands.

“Daisuke?”

“Hmm?”

“I love you.”

“Mmm-hmm.” He nibbled her ear a bit, something wholly new and exciting, something he had never done to her before.

He started to kiss her again, and then leaned forward into her until their torsos were touching, both their shirts unbuttoned now, but still on. His weight caused her to lay back, and he put a hand on her rump, shifted her effortlessly so she was more on the bed than on the edge. The blanket was sort of scrunched up under her and not comfortable to lay on. The pillows were far away, out of reach. She placed a hand to his cheek, his beard scratching her skin, and waited. When he pulled back to breathe, she moved her hand up a bit to push his hair aside, so she could see both of his eyes.

He closed them, came to her again and deepened his kiss, but soon something changed, felt wrong. Her breath was starting to come quick and shallow, and he felt her muscles tense beneath his hands. He opened one eye to see that hers were much wider than they should have been.

He hadn't even gotten her belt unbuckled yet. They hadn't done anything but kiss. He still had his shoes on.

 _This is barely second base_ , he thought.

He drew back now, sat up, looking so confused and hurt that it nearly splintered her heart. “You're afraid of me,” he whispered. It was not a question.

“No!” She was on her back, looking up at him.

“You are.”

She was silent for a moment, before admitting, “Not you. Never you. _It_. I'm nervous. I don't know... I never...”

His brow furrowed. “Really? Never? At all?”

He saw immediately that was the wrong thing to say. Her forehead got that cute little crease that only showed up when she was angry. And she sat up, huffing, crossed her arms over her chest. His eyes lingered there longer than they should have, and when he looked back to her face she was frowning at him.

“Daisuke. You are the one who taught me how to kiss. Do you really think I would know how to do much more than that? When I didn't even know how... When you're the one that taught me how to kiss? Really? What kind of woman do you think I am?”

That was a loaded question with a bullet in every chamber, so he opted not to answer it. Instead he stood up, started re-buttoning his dress shirt. Tucked it back in. Found his suit coat on the floor, stooped to pick it up, then shrugged back into it. She watched him holster his gun, put on his hat. He didn't bother with his tie.

“Where are you going?”

“You're not ready.”

“I am,” she insisted, from where she sat on the bed.

“No. You're not.” He sighed. “But it's ok. Cupcake, it's fine. We've waited this long, I can wait a little longer.” It wasn't fine, but what was he supposed to say? She was already upset. A smoke. And a drink. Maybe not in that order. He didn't know. It was a little early to start drinking, but it was his vacation too, damn it, and if he wanted a drink, well then he was going to have one.

“I _am_ ready.”

“What have I told you about lying to me?”

She looked away, her face flushed. How could he be so calm about everything. And say it was fine. Clearly, it was not fine. Nothing about this was fine.

She felt the tears coming. This had not gone how she had pictured it at all. She should be undressed in the arms of the man she loved, not watching him get ready to walk out on her.

“Don't leave me,” she croaked, her voice wavering.

At the bedroom door he turned, looked back at her for a long moment. His gaze was heavy on her, and she felt its entire weight. The heat rose to her cheeks unbidden. A tear slipped out before she could stop it, and she quickly wiped it away.

He hated so much to see her cry. He had seen too much of that already. And to know that somehow this time it was his fault... well, he just needed to find a bar, some place quiet to sit and think, alone.

“We're in the middle of the ocean. There's no where for me to go.” He paused, wondered if he should say the next thing... decided yes, she had a right to know. It had been implied, understood, but had remained unspoken. “If I ever leave you, Cupcake, it won't be by choice.”

She knew what he meant. There would come a day, no one knew when, but sometime there would be a day when a job would go bad or the plane would crash or Pops would get in a lucky shot, and one day, a week or decade or even longer from now, but certainly one day, he wouldn't come back to her. She had known that of course, but having him say it, having it stare her in the face – it just made it more real, and brought up all the feelings from when her father hadn't come home. She thought she had gotten a handle on her grief – it had been years, for goodness sake – but it still flared fresh at the most unexpected moments. She realized, quite suddenly, that some things you never really get over. You just learn to live with them.

Her father had been safe, sensible, steady. And it hadn't saved him. Daisuke was reckless, and she was sure he took risks he never told her about. At least she knew he could look after himself, and his friends did their best to look after him too. Hopefully, that would be enough.

Jigen called over his shoulder as he left, “I'll miss you.” She heard the door close before she had a chance to answer, _not too much_. She didn't even get her customary forehead kiss.

And now she felt like sobbing, and since she was alone, she let herself. This was all wrong. What kind of wife had been married as long as she had and not been with her husband? What was wrong with her? Why did she feel like this?

Was he right?

Was she afraid of him?

No. She loved him. She was sure of that. She did and she had and she would. She would always love him; she was certain of that.

Maybe she just wasn't cut out for marriage. She didn't know a lot about it. She only had her father's as an example, and that one had ended in tragedy. Til death do you part took on a different meaning when it was helped along. Now she was thinking about her stepmother and she could feel the embers of that old anger starting to glow.

No. She would not be consumed by that. She shouldn't be angry. Not on her honeymoon.

She buttoned her blouse, took a few deep breaths, washed her face, combed out her hair, and pulled it back in a simple style. She straightened the room a bit, made the bed, piddled around trying to calm herself down.

Well, enough of this feeling sorry for herself. Maybe a break. She had never been on a cruise before. Maybe a walk, some fresh air. She'd explore the ship a bit, see if she could clear her mind, decide what she wanted to say the next time she saw him. What was there to say?

It would be Valentine's Day soon. Maybe she could plan something special for then.

To make up for it.

Jigen sauntered around the cruise ship, hands in his pockets, not really caring where he was going. Not that there was anywhere for him to go. Just walking, wandering.

Everywhere he looked there were couples, holding hands, making out – right there in front of everybody. With eyes for no one but each other. Whispering to each other. Completely oblivious to everything around them. He couldn't stand looking at them, so he kept his gaze out on the water.

He sighed again, found a shady spot, and sat down to smoke. He stayed there a while, just puffing and thinking.

Damn. Damn, how he loved that woman. Too much, he thought. Maybe he loved her too much? Was that even possible? If he loved her a little less, he probably could have just taken her. He had done that before, when he had been younger, a bit wilder, and stupider. It wasn't something he was proud of; didn't like to think about it. He knew better now; knew Cupcake deserved better. And he knew he'd kill anybody that ever tried anything like that with her. So of course he'd not do it himself.

But it had cut him to the core. Seeing fear in her eyes. To know he had been the one to put it there.

Didn't she know how much he loved her? Hadn't he done everything she had asked? Waited and waited and waited some more? Tied the knot and then waited again? Taken her from that bakery prison; shown her the world? Cooked for her? Held her close every night? Maybe he hadn't said it, but she should know. She should. By now, for sure, she should know.

Maybe he should say it.

He had given her a ring, for crying out loud. Didn't that say enough? But he hadn't had it engraved like she had done for him. Maybe he should have done that? What would it have said? Something, something, Cupcake, something, love, something.

Ugh.

He went over in his mind their short time together.

What had he done wrong?

He had suspected that she didn't have his level of experience, but for some reason he hadn't thought she was completely ignorant. He wasn't sure why he had thought that. Her age maybe. He thought before she was just being coy, saying those things, but no. It had been true. She was right about the kissing. He should have known.

Maybe he would apologize. Maybe he could learn to be a little more careful with his words. Maybe...

Maybe he just needed a drink.

He got up, stubbed out his smoke, wandered around a bit more until he found a bar a deck or two below. It was a little after lunch time by now and he was glad to see the place was fairly empty. He did not want to deal with or be around a bunch of people.

He took a stool, folded his hands on the counter, waited for the bartender to notice him. His left was on top, but he couldn't look at the ring without feeling a little overwhelmed, so he switched them, and covered it with his right. He still hadn't ordered when a moment or two later, the bartender slid a glass in front of him, asked, “Your usual?”

“I've never been on this boat before.” Jigen looked at the glass, then looked up, groaned, sounding exasperated. He had enough he was dealing with already, and he was not in the mood for this kind of surprise. Not that he really hadn't halfway expected it or something similar. “What are you doing here, boss?” Of course, Lupin would be here. Why wouldn't he be? It was only his freaking honeymoon. Not like he wanted privacy or anything.

“Why the long face, Jigen-chan? Trouble in paradise?”

“We are not discussing this.”

Goemon came and took the stool next to Jigen. “What aren't we discussing?” the samurai asked.

“Jigen's married life,” Lupin put in helpfully.

“I don't want to talk about it,” the gunman growled. Of all the bars on this boat, how, how had he found this one? How had he stumbled into the one place he didn't want to be? “And what are _you_ doing here?”

“Lupin invited me.”

“Of course. Of course, he did. Let me guess, Fujiko is here too somewhere?”

“What, Ji-Ji? You expect me to go on a lovers cruise and not bring my Fujicakes?”

Jigen drank, indicated that he wanted a refill, and Lupin obliged. “Don't call me Ji-Ji,” he said, sourly.

“Someone has to.” Lupin was grinning with the stupid look on his face, and Jigen wanted very much to through a punch in that direction, but he just sat and sipped his drink.

“How is your Cupcake?” Goemon wondered.

Curtly, Jigen answered, “Fine.” He did not want to be here. Explaining himself. Nothing was as it should have been.

Lupin was wiping the bar, acting like he really did work there. Jigen watched the thief glance up. Saw Lupin's eyes widen in recognition, then watched the thief quickly duck behind the bar. Jigen turned, looked behind him to see, well who else, but Pops coming right over to where they were sitting.

The inspector looked ridiculous in his ugly Hawaiian shirt and shorts and stupid sun hat. What was he doing here? What were any of them doing here?

“Jigen! Goemon!” Pops exclaimed, obviously just as astounded to see them.

“Hey, Pops.” Jigen saluted with his glass.

“Zenigata,” Goemon nodded a greeting.

“What are you two doing here?”

“Could ask you the same question,” Jigen said.

“I'm on vacation.”

“Really? Who'd you bring?”

Pops blushed, said a little defensively, “A hurricane canceled the last one I had booked. I didn't know this was a couple's thing.”

“In the middle of February? You didn't think it might have something to do with Valentine's Day? That it might be for couples? And they let you be an inspector for Interpol?” Jigen was a little hard on the old man, but he was in a mood.

“So that means you're not here to arrest me?” Lupin said, popping up from behind the bar again.

“Lupin!”

“Easy there, Pops,” Jigen advised. “Suppose you do arrest him? Right now? What then? Spend the rest of your vacation babysitting him in your cabin? I'm sure you bought the cheapest one. There's probably not enough room there for both of you. Plus, there's three of us and one of you and we're a long, long way from dry land, so maybe consider. Maybe, just this once, sit down, shut up, and have a drink. On me,” he added, and nodded to Lupin. “Besides, there is nothing on this boat worth stealing. And you can arrest him as soon as we dock.”

“Jigen!” Lupin made a face at his gunman, almost stuck his tongue out at him.

Pops looked like he was considering, like he might actually try to take them all on at once, but he knew it would be futile. After a moment, he just shrugged, took the stool to Jigen's left, ordered something colorful and fruit flavored. Lupin put the little paper umbrella in the crushed ice with a wink before saying, “Jigen is on his honeymoon.”

Jigen pulled his hat brim down with his right hand, while his ring accidentally clinked against his glass, focusing all the attention there. Zenigata stared at him in disbelief.

“Really?”

“It's true,” Goemon offered. “We were there.”

“Don't help me,” Jigen growled. “And what did I say about _not_ discussing this?”

Pops stared down at the silver band on Jigen's finger. “This real?”

“Uh... yeah.”

“And you been married how long? Long enough to have... you know...” Pops let it go unfinished but every man there took his meaning.

“What the hell business of that is yours?!” Jigen said, his voice getting louder, his anger rising. He drank some more, held his glass out to Lupin who refilled it.

“That means no,” the thief said grinning.

“Shut up!”

Zenigata frowned. “Well, Jigen, if that is the case, then I'm pretty sure you can get it annulled. Rather than a divorce.” Pops drank too before saying, “Divorces... They can get messy.” And the inspector looked at his hand, where he had used to wear a ring, the pale circle still visible, the skin not yet browned by the sun like that surrounding it.

“I'm not getting divorced or annulled or whatever the hell else any of you think I should do. Right now, I'm here to drink. And my only concern is that this slack bartender has let my glass get empty. Again.”

Goemon had remained quiet. He was torn. He did not like to see Jigen riled. But he also sort of enjoyed the show when Lupin pushed the gunman's buttons.

“You love this woman?” Pops asked softly.

“Oh, he's absolutely smitten,” Lupin said. “He calls her name in his sleep and everything,” he added before moving down the bar to serve the older couple Jigen had seen the night before coming back from the poolside movie. When he had been carrying her in his arms. Oh, that felt like years ago. Was it really just yesterday? They caught Jigen's gaze and nodded at him. He nodded back, took another swallow.

“Think about it carefully,” Pops advised. “If you really love her. Doesn't she deserve better that always being on the run? Always being in danger? You've got enemies. They could use her to get to you. Hurt her to hurt you. What about always worrying about you? Whether you'll come back or not? You'll make her a widow before her time.” Some of that sounded a bit rehearsed, like maybe Pops had heard it before.

“We're just fine, thanks. And I don't remember asking your opinion anyway.”

Lupin returned, and trying to be of assistance, said, “Jigen, just seduce her already. Use your charm.”

Jigen scowled at him sullenly. Goemon could not help but laugh.

“Ok, fine, not that then,” Lupin said.

“Does she like flowers?” Pops asked.

“Don't they all?” the gunman frowned.

“How about poetry?” Goemon suggested.

“I am not about to quote poetry...” But he tucked the idea away, just in case it would come in handy later.

“Oh, I know,” Lupin said, getting a sudden burst of inspiration. “Sing for her. That will melt her for sure.”

“I'm not doing that either.” But the few times she had caught him singing, she had complimented his voice.

“Jigen-chan, it's like you aren't even trying.”

“I know what to do.” Jigen stood up, finished what was left in his glass, held it out one more time, waited for the refill, downed that too.

“What?” they all asked at the same time.

“A gentleman does not kiss and tell.”

“You're just no fun,” Lupin whined, but he was smiling. “You'll tell me the next time you're drunk.”

“We'll see. Charge it all to the room.”

“But I paid for the room,” Lupin said.

“Yeah. I know.” Jigen grinned. “Enjoy your vacation, Pops. Have another round. It's on Lupin. And all of you, mind your own damn business.”

“So cranky,” Lupin observed. “You need to get laid.”

Jigen did not dignify that with an answer. Left them there, made his way back to the cabin. He thought maybe the sea was a bit rougher today, but looking over the rail, he saw no, it was smooth sailing. Must be the booze, he thought. He wasn't what he would call drunk, but he had a good buzz going. Well, good. Good thing he had had enough, and not much to eat today. He probably wouldn't do what he was about to do if he had been sober.

“Hello, darling?”

No answer.

Good.

He noticed the bed was made now. Maybe she had done that. Maybe housekeeping had been through. It didn't matter. And he didn't care.

The roses on the nightstand were still in good shape. He spread their petals over the bed and around it, left a trail to the door. He kept one whole. He couldn't decide if he would tuck that into the band of his hat, or hold it in his teeth. He'd decide when the time came.

He got undressed until he was wearing only his hat, and of course, his ring. Then he got on the bed. He tried laying on his stomach, but he didn't like that, so he tried his side, propped himself up on an elbow, but that didn't feel right either. Finally he fluffed the pillows up, and leaned back, strategically placed a gift basket for modesty, then settled in to wait.

Wouldn't she be surprised? This was such a good idea, he assured himself. Let him be the vulnerable one. Let her be in complete control.

He could not wait to see her. His wife. He hoped he didn't have too long to wait.

“That man,” she told herself, shaking her head. How she loved him. Truly. She did. She didn't know why she had balked.

But that he hadn't pressed it. That he had left her to figure it out on her own. She didn't know why, but somehow that made her love him more.

But she was frustrated too. With herself mostly, but also with the whole situation. She thought maybe she was starting to have second thoughts and that scared her. Maybe she wasn't cut out for this whirlwind, globetrotting lifestyle. Didn't Daisuke deserve someone better? Someone that could keep up? Someone that could help plan and pull off a job? Or be a soft place to land when it went bad? Someone more confident? Someone sturdier than her?

“Oh, that man!”

“You still talking to yourself, Cupcake?”

“Fujiko?”

“The one and only.” Fujiko was on her stomach on one of the lounge chairs, sunbathing, her bikini straps undone to avoid tanlines.

“What are you doing here?”

“Relaxing,” Fujiko purred.

“That is not what I meant and you know it,” she snapped.

“Oh, dear, Cupcake. Not your usual sweet self. Jigen must have blown it. What has he done now?”

“We had a fight,” she admitted, a little kinder with her tone this time.

“Hmm, must have been your first.” Fujiko had not even bothered to lift her head. “You're in my light. Could you...”

“Sure.” She sat down in the empty deck chair next to where Fujiko was lounging.

“Did you win?”

“We both lost.”

“What was your fight about?”

She couldn't bring herself to answer, but felt the heat rise in her face.

When she said nothing, Fujiko looked up at her, and could guess. “Oh, that. Well, you don't need to worry about that. Jigen is fairly decent. You should have a good time.”

“How would you...”

“Oh,” Fujiko gave a dismissive wave. “It was a long time ago. And it just sort of happened. It didn't mean anything then and it surely shouldn't mean anything now.”

“How can it just happen? And how can it not mean anything? It is suppose to mean something. When it happens.”

“In my defense, we both thought Lupin was dead. Again. For real.” Fujiko frowned and she muttered a little angrily, “That man... That idiot...” And Cupcake wasn't sure which one she was referring to – the thief or his gunman.

She had not liked to think of her husband being with other women, and she especially did not like to think of him being with women like Fujiko. But she did understand how grief – the shock of it – could make people do foolish things they would never otherwise consider.

“So, does that mean you still haven't...?”

She looked away, embarrassed, barely whispered, “No, not yet. Something always gets in the way.”

“It'll happen. Try not to think about it so hard,” Fujiko advised. “Just let it flow.”

That made her laugh a little. Daisuke had said something very similar at the Christmas ball.

“And don't worry about Jigen,” Fujiko said. “I've never seen that man so fool over a woman like he is with you. He's so wrapped around your finger neither one of you can see it.”

“Really?” She had a hard time believing it.

“Oh, sure. Don't worry about it. Lupin and I fight all the time, and you've seen the way he carries on about me.”

“Yes. I've seen.” She may not have agreed with Fujiko on – well, most everything really, but it was reassuring to hear her say Daisuke was so taken with her. Fujiko had absolutely nothing to gain from it, so she thought maybe it could be trusted. “You want to get some lunch or something?”

“Yeah. That sounds nice. I've been in the sun long enough.”

“I want to change first.” The blouse looked nice, but it made her sweat and itch, and she just wanted to be out of it. She should have changed before she ever left the room.

“Sure. I'll walk with you,” Fujiko said, tying her top, then sitting up, pulling a shirt and pair of shorts from the bag by her chair.

The two women chatted happily like old friends, even thought they hadn't known each other very long. It was nice to have a friend again. One who was worldly and confident. One she could learn from.

“It'll just take a minute,” she said opening the door to her room.

“Take your time, Cupcake. I've got nowhere to be. Oh, that's my favorite,” Fujiko said, picking through some of the gift baskets.

“Take it. Help yourself. Lupin went a little overboard.”

“Yeah, he tends to.”

She headed toward the bedroom, froze on the threshold, gasped when she saw what awaited her there, “Oh, my...”

“What is it?” Fujiko asked, coming to look over her shoulder, then promptly burst out laughing.

Jigen had fallen asleep waiting, but he woke up at the grating sound of Fujiko's laugh.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he sputtered, frozen.

“That your Magnum?” Fujiko cackled, relishing Jigen's discomfort. “Or you just happy to see us?”

“Oh, hell.” Jigen rolled to the side, kicked the gift basket away, pulled the blanket around himself, stood up, tugging his hat brim down low over his face. “Get out!”

“Oh, Jigen, I'm hurt. You never spread rose petals for me.”

“Get the hell out!”

“Can you just give us a minute?” she asked Fujiko.

“Sure, sure.” Fujiko laughed again, as she left them alone, retreated to the living room, to rummage through a few more gift baskets, taking her pick, slipping things into her handbag.

“Darling, I...” he started, but had no idea what to say.

If she had been alone, this might have gone differently. She wasn't sure how she would have reacted. What she would have felt. But with Fujiko laughing in the background, she relaxed, and was able to appreciate the absurdity of the situation.

She came forward, hugged him, her cheek against his bare chest. “You've been drinking?” She could smell it on him. She knew. There was no reason to deny it.

“Yeah.”

“And Lupin gave you ideas?”

“Yeah.” Let Lupin take the blame for this. It was his fault anyway for being here, bringing Fujiko.

“You did all this for me?”

“Yeah. But I didn't think you'd bring back company. Especially not Fujiko.” He had the blanket balled in one fist, and he pointed angrily at the bedroom door. “None of them are even supposed to be here. This was supposed to be just for us. But they're all here. Lupin. Fujiko. Goemon. Even Pops, too.”

“Koichi's here? I'd like to meet him.”

Jigen frowned, but didn't say anything. Thought about the night he had proposed and how she had commented on how she thought the Interpol agent was a handsome man. They stared at each other for a couple of moments in silence, before he said, quietly, “It was supposed to be a surprise... I had thought... maybe... if I was the one...” He couldn't bring himself to finish the thought. Wasn't really sure what he was trying to say.

“Well, it was a surprise, for sure... Um, we were just about to go eat. Want to come? You'll have to get dressed,” she added teasingly.

“It'll be fun, Jigen,” Fujiko called from the other room.

“Uh, no thanks, Cupcake. You two have fun. I'm going to go take a shower.”

“A cold one!” Fujiko laughed again.

“Shut the hell up!” Jigen bellowed. “If it wasn't for the thought of Lupin's whining, I'd toss you overboard!” Fujiko just laughed at him some more, and he angrily stalked toward the bathroom, dragging the blanket behind him. Well, this had backfired spectacularly. No more surprises. Ever. That was for sure.

Before he closed the bathroom door he heard his wife say, softly, “I'll miss you.”

Jigen stopped, turned back, looked at her as she changed her shirt. What she could do to him by just standing there. He might need a cold shower if he watched her much longer. Maybe he should say it – that he loved her – maybe she needed to hear it. But he couldn't bring himself to, not with Fujiko laughing in the next room, listening to every word. So instead he answered, “Not too much.”

“Enough,” she said, fussing with her hair a bit, putting on some lip balm.

“That's good. That's good. Don't want to think of you not missing me...” Was that selfish? Maybe. He'd think about it later. There would be time later. What Pops had said crossed his mind, but he thrust it away from him.

She stood there waiting, watching him, loving him. She waited until he came back over, planted the customary kiss on her forehead. She hugged him again. “I love you,” she told him.

“Soon, darling. Soon, I'll show you just how much.”

“Are we eating sometime today or what?” Fujiko demanded, rudely interrupting their moment.

“Go on, Cupcake. Have a good time.”

She nodded, and then she and Fujiko left Jigen standing the bedroom, the blanket around he waist, wearing only his hat, feeling like a complete idiot.

This marriage thing. It was harder than he thought it would be for sure. Maybe it just wasn't for him.

Fujiko sipped her drink, made eyes at the waiter, listened half-interested as Cupcake prattled on about – of all the men available in the entire world – Jigen. Fujiko still didn't understand it. Why go for Jigen when Lupin was right there? Or Goemon? Or even Pops? What could Jigen possibly have? In Fujiko's opinion, the gunslinger wasn't much when compared to the rest of them. But Fujiko liked Cupcake, and if Jigen was the one that made her happy, well then, she could have him. Certainly there wasn't anyone else in line.

“He really does try. So very hard. He was reading one of those books on marriage this morning... And he noticed when I put my hair up differently... And he said my croissants were better than the ones we had here...”

“If he's so perfect, why did you fight?”

She hesitated. Then admitted, “That was sort of my fault, I guess. We were about to... we didn't get very far... And I just sort of panicked. But he acted like he was surprised I hadn't before, and I took that the wrong way... might have over reacted a bit. I don't know. I've never been married; all this is new to me. To us.”

“What do you mean panicked? Why?”

“I don't know... If I had any control over it, it wouldn't have happened. But I know it hurt him. I could see it in his face. He told me I was afraid of him.”

“Are you?”

“No. Of course not.”

“If not him, then what are you afraid of?”

This was not a conversation she was prepared to have. “I don't know. I don't know what to expect. I don't really know anything about it.”

“What do you want to know?” Fujiko ate some more, waited for Cupcake to ply her with questions. This was one area in which Fujiko was an unrivaled expert.

Looking down at her plate, she said, “I don't know...” She pushed a bit of food around with her fork. “What it's like?”

“Hate to tell you, but there's no one that can tell you that.”

“What do you mean?”

“It's an experience. No one else can have it for you. So when it does happen, it'll be you that it happens to, and then you'll know.”

“That's not exactly helpful.”

Fujiko shrugged. “Well, it's the best I've got.”

When the waiter finally returned, Fujiko tried to order dessert, but there was none. “What do you mean? A luxury lovers cruise and no dessert? How can there not be any dessert?”

“The new pastry chef got seasick. Hasn't been able to work. Now we got a boat full of couples all expecting special Valentine's treats and no one to make them. My boss has not been happy about it.” The waiter frowned, refilled their glasses.

“I could...” she started, then stopped. Why should she get involved? She had plenty on her mind already; her hands were full. But she had always done her best thinking with a rolling pin or whisk in her hand.

“Could what?” Fujiko prompted.

“I could bake for them.” She looked at the waiter, told him, “I used to run a bakery. I know my way around a kitchen.”

“Really? That would be great!”

“You're really going to spend your honeymoon working?” Fujiko couldn't believe it.

The waiter rushed to convince both of them it was a good idea. “It wouldn't be for nothing. We could work something out. I'm sure we could work something out. And it wouldn't be the whole time. Just the special Valentine's dinner is our main concern...”

Cupcake debated, but didn't take long to decide. “I'll do it.”

“That's awesome. I really appreciate it. This will improve his mood for sure,” the waiter said, thinking of his boss.

The waiter left them to carry the news to his higher-ups. She had told him which room she was in, how she could be reached. They'd work out details later.

“I want to do something for him,” she said.

“The waiter?” Fujiko scoffed. “Aren't you doing enough?”

“Not him. Daisuke. I want to do something for him. Something special. You know, for Valentine's Day. What do you think he'd like?”

“Oh, I don't know,” Fujiko waved the question away. She wasn't interested.

“He already has everything,” Cupcake mused.

“Or could just steal it, if he really wanted something.”

“Yeah...”

“Well, I may not know what to get him, but I can tell you he'll like when you –” Fujiko leaned in and whispered something. Something that made Jigen's wife blush harder than she ever had in her life. She thought she might pop a blood vessel.

“Really?” she asked in disbelief.

Fujiko laughed. “Try it. Find out.”

She couldn't do anything but blush and shake her head.

She and Fujiko spent the rest of the day together. And she had had a grand time. They took in a show, gambled and won at a couple of the casinos, ate at one of the better restaurants when it got late, watched the sun set over the water. It had been wonderful, and she kept thinking how much better it would have been if Daisuke had been there with them. Beside her. Holding her hand.

When she got back to the room, it was very late. Way past time to be asleep. Fujiko was a bit of a night owl, and had kept her out longer than she had realized. It looked like Jigen had tried to wait up for her.

He was laying on the couch, that book tented on his chest, a half empty bottle on the coffee table.

She took the book, placed it on the table. Took his hat from his head, laid that aside as well. He was snoring softly, like usual, and he idly waved a hand around his face, like he thought she was a gnat or something. It made her smile to see him sleeping so peacefully. She wanted to touch his hair, push it away from his eyes, but she didn't want to wake him.

There was no getting him to bed. He was too heavy for her, and she was not about to undress him, so she did her best to make him comfortable where he was. Slipped his tie off, untied and took off his shoes, placed them next to the couch. Found a pillow to tuck under his head; draped a blanket over him, before going to bed herself.

It was the first night since they had been married that they had slept in separate rooms, and it made her heart ache just a little. She wanted to tell him about her day. About the seasick pastry chef, and how she would soon be busy baking for the whole boat. How excited she was to get back in the kitchen. She wanted to ask him what dessert he thought she should make. Something simple, yet refined. Something chocolate obviously. Maybe some kind of fruit garnish or something. Something heart shaped; something romantic. It was for Valentine's Day after all.

She wanted to tell him about the rest of her day. Everything she had seen and done. How this cruise was pretty much the most fun she had ever had in her entire life. She imagined him saying something like well, that's nice Cupcake, but there's still a few things you haven't tried yet. Wait until you've got those under your belt to compare to... or something like that. She loved the way he would tease her. And she loved the way she would catch him looking at her. The way he would catch her watching him.

She loved him. Truly.

She still didn't know what she was going to do. Valentine's Day was almost here. And she wasn't anywhere near ready.

She snuggled down in the huge bed alone, but it took her a long time to fall asleep.

As she drifted off, her mind just kept repeating his name or hearing hers in his voice. She thought maybe once she had heard it for real, not imagined it, but half asleep she couldn't be sure.

Soon, she was all the way asleep, with Jigen still snoring softly in the next room.

“Thanks for letting me test this out,” she said, pulling a pan from the oven. “It's been a while since I've done this, and I just want to make sure it comes out right.”

“Of course.” The waiter from before had shown her the kitchens, what they had to work with as far as ingredients, what the other chef had planned. She wouldn't do anything quite that complex. Something simple would still taste just as good. “We're the ones that should be thanking you.”

“Here,” she said plating up the tiny lava cakes, adding a little strawberry sauce she had made from scratch. “Let somebody try these. See what they think.”

The waiter nodded, took the tray of desserts and made his way out into the dining area.

Jigen sat alone at a table for two, next to a huge window, looking out at the water. He had just finished a decent steak. Not the best he'd ever had, but not bad. He was in a better mood with his stomach full.

Suddenly, his waiter returned, unbidden, and placed a dessert in front of him.

Jigen caught the man's sleeve. “Hey, bud, I didn't order this.”

“I know,” the waiter answered, setting more desserts down in front of the people at the next table. “Just try it, and let us know if you like it.”

Jigen shrugged, picked up a fork.

He wondered where his Cupcake had got off to. He hadn't heard her come in last night, and she had been gone by the time he got up. But he knew she had been there. He had woken up with a pillow and blanket he didn't remember finding for himself, and his hat and shoes and tie had been off, though he was reasonably sure he had fallen asleep with them on. Typically a light sleeper he was surprised he hadn't woken up either time, when she had come or when she had gone. Too much drinking, he thought. Too much on his mind had caused that.

Well, there was no where for her to go. She'd come back to the room soon, he was sure. Maybe she just needed some time to herself, like he had, to sort out this whole marriage thing.

He was sort of glad he hadn't seen her so soon after what he now referred to as _the incident_. A little time and distance from that could be a good thing. And hopefully Fujiko wouldn't remind him of it at every opportunity. That was a bit much to hope for, but he wished for it anyway.

Damn Fujiko. Why did she even have to be here? And what could they have been talking about, being gone the whole day and half the night together. Him, most likely, he was sure. He didn't like to think about that. What Fujiko might be saying about him to his wife.

He sighed, took a bite, was impressed. This was much better than he had expected. It was much better than everything he had had on this boat so far. In fact, it was good enough to have been baked by...

The waiter came around again, carrying the empty tray. Jigen flagged him down. “Who made this?”

“Did you like it?”

“Yeah. Who made it?”

“A passenger is helping us out.”

“Really? About so tall?” Jigen held up a hand. Described her, said her hair color and eye color, the little dimple she got in her cheek when she was thinking too hard about something.

“Yeah, that's her. She's great to be helping us like this.”

“My wife.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Which way to the kitchen?”

The waiter pointed him in the right direction, and Jigen wiped his face, left his napkin on the empty plate as he stood up.

She was alone in the kitchen, right where he thought he would find her. She was setting things right, putting things away, wiping the counter. He watched her for a while without her knowing it, just enjoying the view.

“I have a complaint for the chef,” he said firmly, in his best impersonation of a disgruntled customer.

“And just what might that be, sir?” she said defensively, bracing herself. She turned around, finally noticed him. “Daisuke?”

“I did _not_ receive a goodnight kiss,” he complained. “ _Or_ a good morning kiss.” He tipped his hat up, was grinning. “This sort of negligence, well, we just can't tolerate it.”

She smiled back at him. “How, exactly, is that a complaint for the chef?”

“Oh, well, you see, the chef... she's my wife...”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. See, here, I've got this ring with her name on it to prove it.” He held up his hand. “And I thought this situation was something that should be brought to her attention immediately.” He came up to her, put his hands on her hips, pulled her close. She reached up, circled her arms around his neck, stared into those gunmetal gray eyes.

“You did, did you?”

“I did, yeah.”

She didn't say anything. This man. Oh, this man. Her man. How she loved him.

“Well, what are you going to do about it?”

“What do you think should be done?” she asked.

“I can take them now. If you have them on you that is.”

“Hmm, I'll have to check. Oh, yes, I do have them. They're right here.” And she kissed him soundly, once, twice, three times. “An extra one for interest.”

“Oh, Cupcake, I missed you.”

“I'm right here.”

He didn't know what to say, but he wanted to keep the conversation going. He looked around, then said, “Need help?”

She smiled again, “I can't pay you.” She laughed, remembering another time he had offered to help her bake.

“Oh, well, in that case... I've got a vacation to get back to...”

“You,” she smiled. “I'll be done here soon.”

“That's fine. That's fine. Take your time, Cupcake. Enjoy yourself.”

“I will.”

He left her there, smiled to himself as he went out the door into the dining area. The waiter was passing by, and Jigen stopped him. “Hey.”

“Yeah?”

“The baker...”

“Your wife?”

“Yeah. I want to do something special for her.” Jigen explained his idea. He wasn't much for details when planning things. He could follow a plan easily if someone else laid it out, but coming up with his own, well... that was a little different.

The waiter made several helpful suggestions. “We do stuff like that all the time. I'm sure we could pull that off easy enough.”

“Don't let her know.”

“It'll be a surprise for sure,” the waiter assured him.

They talked a little while longer, then Jigen asked, “Can you get her to do that? Without letting on what it's for?”

“Don't worry about it. She'll never see it coming.”

“All right,” Jigen answered, satisfied. “Say, you got a gift shop around here somewhere?”

“Sure.” The waiter told him how to get there, and Jigen wandered around until he found it. It was huge. Almost as big as the ballroom, he figured. And there was everything imaginable. Souvenir t-shirts with the name of the boat and the islands it was headed to. Keychains shaped like the ship. Beach bags and umbrellas with the cruise company's logo on them. Cheap touristy crap. Nothing good enough for her.

He wandered back further into the endless labyrinth of merchandise, until he came across a jewelry counter, right there in the middle.

“Oh, Jigen-chan, here to pick out something for your wife? For Valentine's Day?”

“So you just following me around now? Don't you have anything better to do? Shouldn't you be tending bar somewhere? Or off bothering Fujiko?”

“Well, someone is still cranky...”

“Drop that. I am not talking about that. And it would have happened if it hadn't been for you bringing Fujiko along to ruin everything,” Jigen answered curtly.

Lupin snickered, said, “Yeah, we heard about that.”

“Great. I'm sure the whole boat knows by now.”

“Well, you know what a gossip Goemon can be.”

That made them both laugh. Lupin did aggravate the mess out of Jigen sometimes, but the gunslinger was quite fond of his boss. The man was a good friend, most days, and could be trusted. Which was rare in this business. In this world, he thought.

“But you are here to find something for your Cupcake? Am I right?”

“Yeah.”

“How about this?” Lupin took a necklace from the display case. It was a gaudy-looking thing, too big, too opulent. Jigen knew she would hate it.

“Uh, no.”

“Hmm, this then?” Lupin stashed the necklace in his pocket, pulled a box of rings out for Jigen to inspect.

These were no good either. And besides, she already had her snowflake ring, and his wedding band. “No. I don't think she'll want another ring.”

“A bracelet maybe?” Lupin emptied the box of rings into the pocket with the necklace. Apparently, there were a few things worth stealing on this boat, and Lupin was not going to waste the opportunity.

“Maybe... what have you got?”

Lupin dug around in the display case, pulled out a few to choose from. One had alternating emeralds and tiny golden palm trees. Another had rubies and silver cast tropical flowers. Another was just a plain diamond bracelet; classy, elegant, expensive.

“Is this all there is?” Jigen wanted to know.

“So picky,” Lupin teased.

“I want it to be...” Jigen started, then stopped. He wasn't going to say _special_. He wasn't going to explain himself. He added, quietly, “It's for her.”

“I understand, Jigen-chan. I understand. There's more; look at these.” Lupin found a few more bracelets, laid them out on the glass counter.

The sapphire one caught Jigen's eye. He knew she liked blue. She had told him that whenever he wore it. The sapphire one had small silver ocean waves between the stones, white-capped with tiny diamonds. This one was perfect. A perfect reminder of their honeymoon on the water. It was just right. “This one. This is the one.”

“Great. Here, I'll box it up. You want it wrapped?”

“No, just that velvet box is fine.”

Lupin found one, tucked the bracelet inside.

“Pops hasn't been breathing down your neck? Watching you rob the place blind?”

“You know,” Lupin said thinking, “I haven't seen the old man since we were all together drinking, you know before your, uh, visit from Fujiko. But it's a few days until we reach land, I'm sure he'll turn up and cause trouble for us then.”

“For you, you mean,” Jigen said. “I'm not involved. Innocently on my honeymoon, minding my own business, remember?”

“Is it really a honeymoon if nothing happens?” Lupin laughed, wagged his eyebrows exaggeratedly.

Jigen shook his head. “And what did I tell you about minding your own damn business?”

“Here's your bracelet. How'd you want to pay?”

“Put it on the room.”

Lupin frowned. “You can just have it.”

“Oh, and you still owe me a new suit.”

“See one you like?”

“When I do, I'll just charge it to the room.”

Lupin made a face, and Jigen laughed again. “Tell Cupcake I said hello.”

“Sure. Stay out of trouble, if you can help it.”

“Oh, wait, Jigen. One more thing. Almost forgot...”

Jigen tucked the velvet box into his coat pocket, the one where he kept his cigarettes, right next to his heart, turned back. “What?”

“Give this to her too.” Lupin pulled out an averaged-sized brown teddy bear. The thing looked like it had been to hell and back. Missing an eye. A notch in one ear. Sort of raggedy and worn. Some unknown stain on its fore paws. An obvious seam in a bright pink thread, stitched by someone who definitely did not know how to work a needle.

“This ratty thing? Why would she want this?”

“Trust me, Jigen-chan. She will love this. And it will make her love you even more than she already does. Just wait until you give it to her.”

Jigen was skeptical, but took the bear with him anyway. This was probably some kind of prank to make him look bad. Wasn't enough they were all laughing at him about _the incident_. But once in a while Lupin could be thoughtful. Jigen decided he would give it to her, and if it backfired, well, he'd just blame Lupin.

Well, tomorrow was Valentine's Day. He couldn't wait. He hoped this time, for once, things would go as planned.

“I get to bake a wedding cake,” she said beaming. She prattled on about her day as they sat together in the hot tub. Jigen has his hat and his swim trunks, a glass of wine and an ash tray nearby.

“Oh, yeah?” He loved to hear her talk. Didn't even matter what she was saying.

“Yeah. There's this couple, they had a very small wedding, with just their closest friends.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. And the bride never actually got a wedding cake.”

“That's sort of sad for her, I guess,” Jigen mused.

“But the husband – he is so sweet – he wants to make up for that. What I was told anyway. So now I'm baking one for them.”

He could see she was excited about it. She said she had baked for weddings before, but that was pretty rare, and not recently.

“Can you handle it?”

“Oh, sure, it's a small one, since it's just for the two of them. She'll be so surprised. It's supposed to say 'Happy Second Anniversary.' And they want little buttercream roses on it and everything... I haven't made those in forever... I hope I remember how.”

“It's probably like riding a bike,” he said. Jigen sat in the warm frothing water and just listened, happy to see her happy. “What flavor?”

“The waiter told me to pick that out. Said they didn't know what they wanted.”

“So what did you decide on?”

“My favorite.”

“Which is?”

“White cake, two layers, some raspberry filling in between, with buttercream icing. Easy. Classic.”

“Sounds good,” Jigen said, smiling. “I'm sure whoever they are, they'll be happy with it.”

“Hope so.”

She was tucked up under his arm, her wet hair plastered to his bare shoulder, and he leaned back just relishing the sound of her voice. She talked about how nice the kitchen staff were, how fancy the kitchen facilities were, the selection and freshness of the ingredients, how she had already gotten most of the prep work done, had things measured out.

Jigen was glad to see her happy and excited about something. It was rare. Rare to see, and rare that she would talk about it so much. She tended to keep things close, was kind of reserved. He had learned it was because of her stepmother. Whenever that old hag had learned anything, she had always found a way to use it against his Cupcake.

That she was so open with him, told him everything, even the smallest, most meaningless details – like that thing about the peanut butter – well, it just made him feel... He wasn't sure exactly what the word was... Privileged? Honored? Something.

Having her this close, in her bathing suit, in a hot tub no less, was a little distracting for him to say the least, but he had already made up his mind it would not be tonight.

So when she stopped talking and looked up at him, touched his cheek, turned his face to meet hers, it caught him completely off-guard. “Hey...” she said, a little shyly, he thought.

“Hey,” he answered.

“Do you want to... you know...”

He considered it. She looked ready. But she had looked like she was ready before. And it was late. But oh, how he wanted to. He had never wanted anything more. He could not think of a single thing in this world, or another time when he had ever wanted anything more than he wanted her right now. But she had a big day tomorrow, baking for the entire boat.

He took her hand from his face, kissed it, before saying, “Not tonight, Cupcake.” Her look of hurt wounded him, and he rushed to add, “You're tired. I'm tired. You've got a big day tomorrow. Valentine's Day and all.”

“You're right,” she admitted. “You always just want what's best for me.”

“Yeah, Cupcake. Glad you see it that way. I always just want you to be happy.”

“I am when I'm with you,” she said, kissing him, and he felt a sudden rush of warmth, which, of course, he blamed on the wine.

The waiter came by their suite the next evening – Valentine's Day – and Jigen let him in. “You don't think she knows, do you?” he asked.

“No. She's too busy to pay me any mind. Everyone loves her desserts. It really was great that she could help us out.”

“She has a big heart, my wife.”

“That she does,” the waiter agreed.

Jigen watched the man push the cart into the room. It had everything they needed. They moved the coffee table to the side to make room for the round table for two. Jigen spread out the table cloth, unfolded the chairs.

“How much time do we have?” Jigen wondered.

“Plenty. We'll have it all set up, and I'll be long gone before she's done.”

“Fine.” They set the table; Jigen lit a couple of candles, took a moment to rearrange the flowers the waiter had brought in the little crystal vase he had placed in the center of the table.

“That's a nice suit,” the waiter commented, looking for something to talk about, trying to make conversation. Small talk leads to big tips. He had learned that a long time ago.

“You think?”

“Yeah.”

“It's new,” Jigen confessed. “I wasn't sure. With the vest and all. It's a little different from what I usually wear...”

“She'll like it. It looks sharp.”

“Hey, thanks for your help with –” Jigen just gestured at everything, the table, the food, all of it. “With, you know, all this.”

“A pleasure. Oh, here,” the waiter said, handing Jigen a huge heart-shaped box. “The chocolate truffles. She should love these.”

“And no peanut butter, right?”

“None, whatsoever. I made sure.”

“Great, thanks.” Jigen tipped the guy, a little extra for his effort, and sent him on his way.

Everything was finally ready.

Tonight.

Tonight was the night. He was sure.

All he had to do now was wait.

“Lupin?”

“Oh, Cupcake. How's the honeymoon?” He was grinning, still behind the jewelry counter in the gift shop, right where Jigen had left him.

“Good. Thanks for setting it up. Kind of surprised everyone tagged along though...” And she looked right at him until he just shrugged. “Shouldn't you be with Fujiko?”

“Why?”

“Because it's Valentine's Day?”

“Oh, yeah, that. We'll do something later. Is that why you're here? Something for our Jigen-chan for Valentine's Day?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Plenty to choose from,” he said, waving his hand at the display case with a flourish.

“They told me I could pick anything. Since I saved their special dinner.”

“What do you have in mind?”

“I'm not sure...”

There were watches, but Daisuke already had one. There were rings and things like that, but that didn't seem like him. She was still sort of half-surprised he wore hers, since he did not seem like a man that would wear any kind of jewelry. Even a wedding band. There were cigar cutters, stainless steel lighters, some with the cruise company's logo, some blank ready for engraving. Maybe something like that? Something he would use every day, and think of her whenever he held it?

“You've known him a lot longer than I have. What do you think he'll like?”

“Anything you want to give him,” Lupin assured her. “Honestly, you could give him a cat's full litter box, and because it came from you, he'd love it.”

“Doubt that.”

“Believe what you want.”

“You're not much help.”

Lupin shrugged again, grinning. It was good to see Jigen happy. Well, generally. If not at the moment; but Lupin was sure he would be soon. And Lupin liked Cupcake, was glad to have her around. Jigen had made a good choice.

She wandered down the length of the display case and back, thinking, debating. “He won't like that...” she said quietly, under her breath.

“Won't like what?”

“Oh, sorry. Just talking to myself again.”

“Let me know if I can take anything out for you.”

She looked around a bit more, until something caught her eye. “Do you think he'll use that?” She pointed to what she had picked out.

Lupin laughed a little. “Will he use it? You have met him right? That man you married?”

“Good point. I'll take it then.” Lupin started to lift it out of the case. “No, no, not that one. The one next to it.”

“Ok, ok, Cupcake. Whichever one you want.” Lupin got the right item, was about to gift wrap it when she stopped him. “Can you engrave that here?”

“Anything for Jigen-chan,” Lupin smiled. “Which of course, means anything for Mrs. Jigen-chan.”

Lupin had never called her that before. It felt odd, but somehow nice. Mrs. Daisuke Jigen. That was who she was. That was her name now.

She told Lupin what she wanted engraved, tried to be patient as he did it. And tried again to be patient as he wrapped it.

Finally, it was ready, done up smartly in a sparkling paper and large silky bow. A little overdone she thought, but definitely something with Lupin's flair.

“Happy Valentine's Day, Cupcake.”

“You too, Lupin.”

She had to keep herself from running back to the room. She was careful on the stairs. Why did the gift shop have to be so very, very far away? She only wanted to be there now, with him.

She had thought about him all day, as she baked desserts for other happy couples. Could only see his face as she iced that special order wedding cake, crafted the little buttercream roses, which she had remembered how to make, piped the words _Happy Second Anniversary_ in pink icing. She was proud of it when she had finished, beamed as the waiter had boxed it up, taken it away.

It had been a good day. She had made others happy.

She hoped to make it a good night too.

She hoped he was out with Goemon or something somewhere, so she'd have time to freshen up. Maybe try on that lingerie she had found in that gift basket hidden in the closet. At least shower. She was tired and sweaty from working in a kitchen, her hair a mess, a bit of flour still stuck to her cheek.

Of course he was standing right there in the living room, the first thing she saw when she opened the door. He had soft music playing. There was a small table for two set up, candlelit, with flowers and a huge heart-shaped box nearby. And her husband, standing there in the midst of it, hands in his pockets, hat pushed back, grinning. He looked sharp enough to make her breath catch, and he heard it, smirked that little half-smile that melted her heart.

She cleared her throat, said, “New suit?”

“Yeah.”

“Looks good.”

“Thought you might like it,” he said, still smiling.

“What's all this?” She did sound surprised, and he liked that. That he had been able to pull this off without her finding out or Lupin tipping his hand for him.

“Oh, nothing much. Heard a rumor it was Valentine's Day. And thought, since we had to eat anyway...”

“It's wonderful,” she told him, as he pulled out her chair for her. He kissed her cheek as she sat down. “Feels a bit scraggly.”

Jigen put a hand to his face, felt the bristles there, blushed. He should have taken the time to shave. But then he shrugged. He was on vacation. It would be fine.

“Rugged,” she said, and smiled at him, which just made him blush harder. She had to admit it was sort of nice to see him rattled, when he was normally so completely in control of everything all the time.

He brushed the flour from her cheek with the pad of his thumb. “Beautiful,” he whispered, and it was her turn to blush. She had not felt beautiful when she had walked in the door, but the way he said it made her believe it.

He sat down across from her, asked how her day had been. They talked and laughed and ate. Somehow he had arranged for her favorite meal, and she loved that he had known what that was. She kept her hand on the table and he kept his over it, running his thumb across her knuckles, touching her rings.

“And no peanut butter,” he said triumphantly, handing her the heart-shaped box. She laughed, set the box aside. They'd share the treats inside later. By then, they had moved to the couch and were snuggled close to each other, their usual comfortable posture.

“I have something else too,” he said reaching into his suit coat.

“I brought something too.” She found the package Lupin had wrapped for her.

They exchanged boxes. Jigen just held his, waited. Wanted to watch her as she opened hers first. He hoped she would like it. Maybe he should have gone with the diamond one instead. There was no reason why she shouldn't like the one he had picked, but he was still nervous. Why? Why would that make him nervous? When he had been countless life-threatening situations, been shot and near death multiple times... Why should watching Cupcake open a gift make him antsy? He was a man, but he felt like a teenager, and could sense the heat creeping into his face as she opened the box and just stared at the bracelet that laid there.

“You can say something?” Oh, he shouldn't have said that. He felt beyond foolish now.

“It's stunning.”

“You like it?”

“I love it.” She took it from the box, the sapphires sparkling in the candlelight, the tiny silver ocean waves with their diamond white-caps gleaming.

“You do?”

“I do, truly. It's lovely.”

“Here.” He took it from her, fastened it around her wrist. “I thought it might be a nice reminder of our trip together.” He had meant it as a souvenir of the cruise. He hoped it wouldn't become a reminder of their marriage anytime soon. Now that she was in his life, he was going to have to be more careful. He had a lot of living left to do.

“Open yours.”

“Later. Maybe.”

She frowned at him, and he laughed, looking at that little crease in her forehead. “Or,” she said firmly, “You could open it now.”

“Or now. Now's good too. I could open it now.” He laughed again, until she was smiling. “You didn't need to get me anything, Cupcake,” he said, untying the bow, tearing the paper. He lifted the lid off the box to reveal a simple silver flask. Plain, but thoughtful, nonetheless.

“That idiot. He put it in the box upside down!”

“Who?”

“Who else? Your boss.”

Jigen threw his head back and laughed heartily.

“Turn it over. He was supposed to put this side up, so it would be the first thing you saw.”

Jigen took the flask from the box. He normally wouldn't carry one. It took up too much room in his pocket. Room better left for more ammo. But he might start carrying one. Now that he had one. Now that Cupcake had given him one. There had been times when he had been stuck somewhere, or pinned down, and would have almost traded his hat for a drink, so yes, it was a fine gift and he was pleased.

He turned it over, then just stared at it. “Oh, Cupcake.”

“You like it?”

“It's perfect. Just like you,” and he put an arm around her pulled her close, as she blushed.

There were no heartfelt words, no quote from some ancient sappy love poem, not even the date of their wedding ceremony. All that was etched into the flask was a very simple design of what else? Of course, a cupcake. A couple of lines for the cake, a few curves for the cloud of icing, a little heart perched on top where the cherry should have been.

“I wasn't sure...” she started, then stopped.

“It's perfect,” he said again.

They were quiet for a time. Shy. Awkward. That was silly, she thought. To feel awkward around the one man in the entire world she was completely at ease with.

“Oh,” he said suddenly. “There's one more thing.”

“More?”

“Yeah, but I don't know about this. And if you don't like it, well...” He was going to say _blame Lupin_. But he'd wait to see what she thought. “Where did I leave...” He rummaged through some of the gift baskets stacked beside the couch. “Oh, here. Here it is.”

He took out the ravaged teddy bear that looked like it belonged in a landfill, and not as part of his Valentine's Day celebration. When he handed it to her, she started crying. He wanted to take it back, toss it off the balcony, let the sea take it. He knew the thing was ugly, but he didn't think it would make her cry.

“I'm going to stop bringing you presents since you always just end up crying.”

“How?” she gasped, wiping her eyes, the bracelet on her wrist sparkling. “How do you have this?”

Jigen shrugged. “Lupin,” he said, as if that one word explained everything. Near as he could figure, Lupin must have gotten it sometime between leaving them at the hotel and before boarding the boat.

“How did he know?” she said with wonder.

“Know what?”

“Do you know what this is?”

That felt like another loaded question, so Jigen just shook his head slightly.

“When I was a very little girl, my father gave me this... I couldn't find it when I had to move out, and I just assumed it was gone forever. Something else she had taken from me.”

“So... you like it.”

“I love it.”

“That's good. I almost didn't give it to you... Thought it was another one of his tricks.”

“I'm so glad you did.”

“How do you know it's yours? And not something he found on the side of the road?”

“This one is mine. See here's where his leg came off.” She pointed to the pink seam. “And here's where we were finger painting.” She pointed to the stained paws. “The paint wasn't as washable as the label claimed.”

Jigen chuckled. “What happened to his eye?”

“Hmm, not sure. Buttons probably ate it.”

“Buttons?”

“My stepmother's pet.”

“Oh, that nasty dog.” Jigen recalled his run-in with the creature. “Vicious thing.”

Now it was her turn to laugh. “Yeah, I don't miss him at all.”

They were quiet again for a few moments, before she stood up, went over to change to music to something slower, more romantic.

She held out a hand to him, he stood and took it.

“Remember how we met?” she asked.

“Perfectly. Called me a trespasser.”

“In the middle of the night.”

“Fujiko's fault,” he said.

“We should thank her.”

Jigen agreed. “Yeah. We should.”

He was looking at her, the way he did when there was only one thing on his mind. She blushed a little, but didn't look away.

“Remember our first kiss?” he asked.

“Hmm,” she said. “I might need a bit of a reminder. Let's see...” She took the hand she was holding, put it on her hip. “If I remember, your hand was here, and the other one, here. And there was mistletoe... And then Lupin interrupted...”

“You have a good memory.”

“It wasn't that long ago.”

“Does this feel familiar?” He pulled her close, as was his habit now, and kissed her while she relished the feeling.

“Very familiar, yes. It was...”

“Yeah?”

“Nice,” she said, remembering what she had told him the first time. “Can we do it again?” she asked, and he laughed. “Remember our first dance?” The song changed, and she twirled herself away from him and back into his arms.

This man. The one that wore her ring. He still wasn't hers. Not yet.

“How could I forget?”

“Remind me.”

“Anything you want, Cupcake.”

“I want to hear it.”

“Would you...” he said staring at her. “Would you honor me with a dance?”

“A pleasure,” she said, smiling.

They moved around the living room that was crowded with furniture, that table they had eaten at. They shuffled around it, swayed together to the music. It wasn't graceful, but they didn't care. No one was watching, and they were just happy to be in each others arms. That was all that mattered to them.

He dipped her, and then just held her there as she looked up at him. He leaned down for another kiss, taking his time, enjoying this moment.

When he broke away, she asked, “Do you remember...” and she stopped, blushed. Wasn't sure how to say the next thing.

“What?” he prompted.

“Do you remember our second anniversary?” It sounded silly out loud; had sounded better in her head. How can you remember what hasn't happened yet?

He didn't say anything at first. Just smiled at her. “I do. I did remember. Actually, I have something for that.” He straightened, bringing her up with him before he released her, went to the bedroom, came back with a familiar box, set it on the table.

“What's this?”

“Open it. Find out.”

She opened the box, already knowing what was in it.

“I have it from a very reliable source,” he said, in that smooth voice that undid her every time she heard it. “That this was your favorite.”

“How did you...”

“So, it was a surprise?”

“I had no idea, that this was for us, when I was making it.”

“You know, there's something special, I think, about an anniversary on Valentine's Day.”

“Like being able to remember it later?” she teased.

“Well, yeah, that too.” He chuckled. She closed the box, looked at him. They'd eat the cake later. After, maybe.

“Let's make sure this cake isn't telling lies.”

He smirked at that, pushed his hat up a bit. It would be his pleasure, to delight her. The only thing he had thought of for months. Best get started.

“Do you remember the first time I carried you over a threshold?”

She looked at him, puzzled. “No. I don't.”

“Well, you were asleep at the time, so I don't guess you would.”

“Remind me,” she said, as she circled her arms around his neck.

“It was a little like this.” He scooped her up easily, held her close to him, just stood there.

He playfully pinched her backside, but it shocked her enough – she had not expected that yet – that she sort of jerked in his arms. He wasn't ready for her sudden movement, and he stumbled backward trying to keep his balance and not drop her.

The back of his knee caught the edge of the hot tub, and before either of them could do anything about it, they were falling.

“Oh,” she cried, before she went under.

They both came up sputtering, coughing, laughing. The water was cold and still, nothing like it had been before. She shivered, her shirt plastered to her skin now, her hair wet and in her eyes.

“Here,” he said, putting his hat aside, moving the hair out of her face. “Oh, Cupcake. I'm afraid you're going to have to come out of those clothes.”

She looked at him questioningly.

“Don't want you to catch cold, you see,” he explained.

“We wouldn't want that.”

“No.” He rose, helped her up. Then they just stood there, knee deep in the cold water looking at each other. He could salvage the suit, but he figured his shoes were probably ruined.

“I might need some help,” she said.

“Oh? Me too.”

“Um, ok.”

“You first,” he said and stood there waiting.

So she took the lead, undid the buttons on his suit coat, his vest, loosened his tie, laid it sopping on the edge of the tub next to his soaked hat. His shirt was stuck to his skin, but this time she didn't fumble with the buttons, peeled it off and tossed it aside without any hesitation.

When his chest was bare, she nuzzled her face in that crook where his neck met his shoulder, taking in his scent. That aftershave she loved. That lingering tobacco stink that never went away. She put her arms around him and squeezed. He rubbed her back, then reached down, took hold of the hem of her shirt, pulled it over her head, threw it down on top of his own.

He was kissing her again, his beard on her face, her neck, then lower. His hands, strong, experienced, right where they should have been.

She started to tug at his belt buckle and he stilled her hands with his own. “You sure, Cupcake? There won't be any turning back, we go much further.”

“Husband, I have never been more sure of anything in my life.”

That was good enough for him.

They finished undressing each other, moved to the bedroom. He found a towel, dried her off, and she did the same for him.

She couldn't take her eyes off it. He was magnificent. Like a work of art. Like a statue in a museum.

“Damn it, woman, I love you.”

“Prove it. Show me. Show me just how much.”

She laid on the bed, pulled him down with her. He did show her, and soon she was quivering, whimpering with her need for him.

“Now, Daisuke.”

“Not yet.”

“Now.”

“Soon.”

“Now! Damn it, Daisuke! Now!”

She hardly ever cursed, so he knew he was doing the right things. “Almost.”

“I swear if you don't... Oh –” he swallowed whatever she had been about to say with another kiss.

“Almost, love, you're not quite... There.” He moved his hands to her hips again, just like when they kissed, except now he caressed her bare skin, nothing separating them at all.

“Now! Unless you want a divorce; right now!”

“Yes, ma'am!”

Extraordinary. Excruciatingly exquisite. Nothing had prepared her. Fujiko was right. No one could have told her. There was no way an author could capture this moment. All her romance novels and such had left out everything important, the fusing of two souls into one, the spiritual level of the experience. “Daisuke!”

She came before he did – he made sure of that. Took care of her as best he knew how, and held himself back as much as he could until he could no longer. And when he came, a little while after her, seconds or minutes, she had no idea, she heard her name in a hoarse shout that sounded far away.

Her real name.

Not Cupcake. Not Darling. Not Muffin. Not Sugar. Not Honey. Or any of the other things he liked to say. But her name, in his voice, in this moment, and hearing it, she felt exalted.

She cried just a little when it was over, completely overwhelmed by the beauty of the moment, his tenderness, the pleasure she had had no inkling could exist in this world, and she was beyond happy.

Happy she had waited for him. This man. Her husband. For real now. He was hers. Not just in name, but in body, and spirit too. And she was grateful that he had found her, had decided to hang around, chosen her, when he could have had anybody.

He had chosen her.

“Husband?”

“Wife,” he sounded tired, but content, and he pulled her close to him, like every night before.

“Again?”

He laughed at that. “Soon. Again, very soon, Cupcake, yes. I just need a little time.”

“I'll wait,” she said, snuggling closer to this man, her husband.

Jigen was tired, sore, starving. He wandered into the restaurant and was surprised to see Goemon and Pops sharing a table, eating breakfast together like old friends. The samurai spotted him and waved him over. As soon as he sat down, Lupin was at his elbow, filling a mug for him.

“So, today you decided to impersonate a waiter?”

“Oh, my, my, Jigen-chan, someone sounds chipper.” It was not a question. Jigen was in such a good mood, he didn't even scowl. “Where's our sweet Cupcake?”

“Let her sleep. She's exhausted.”

“I'll bet.”

“I think maybe she talked to Fujiko...”

“Oh? Then your Valentine's Day was a good one?”

“Yeah. But we aren't talking about this. Let's ask Pops how much fun he's having all alone on a lovers cruise, instead.”

The inspector blushed a bit when he said, “I, uh... I haven't been alone.”

“Really, Pops?” Lupin couldn't wait to hear what had happened. “I didn't figure you for a poacher.”

“Oh, no, no, she's single.”

“Then what is she doing here?” Jigen wanted to know, maybe just as much as Lupin, but he tried not to be so obvious about it.

“Well, she...” Pops was beaming as he thought of her. “She's such a firecracker. Her ex brings his new wife on this cruise every year, and since she found that out, she always comes along too. She said so she could 'strut around in her bikini and remind him of what he gave up.' It was an ugly divorce... Infidelity and all that. She deserves so much better.”

Lupin laughed. “What a woman.”

“She is,” Pops agreed. Then sobered a bit. “I think it's getting serious.”

“Don't rush it Pops. Just enjoy what it is. Take your time.”

Jigen added, thinking of his wife, and their whirlwind courtship and hasty marriage, “But when you know, then you know.”

Goemon had remained silent throughout the exchange, and now Lupin turned the spotlight on him. “What about you Go-Go? How was your Valentine's Day? Were you able to... well, you know...”

“What's all this about?” Jigen asked, taking a sip from his mug. He had been so wrapped up with Cupcake he hadn't the slightest idea what the rest of them had been up to.

Lupin, of course, was happy to share details. “There's this waitress Goemon has been making eyes at since we got on the boat, but he refuses to talk to her.”

“I have spoken to her every day,” the samurai said in his own defense.

“'A refill, please,' is _not_ flirting,” Lupin informed him.

“It is when she says it,” Goemon said quietly, his voice so low they almost hadn't heard him.

They all sort of sat there in shock. They all expected talk like that from Lupin, but not Goemon. The gunman, the thief, and the inspector all stared at him, trying to figure out if he was serious or joking, but as they watched they could see his face turning redder, and they all knew.

Jigen was the first to laugh. “Well, good Goemon. Good for you, I guess.”

“Well Fujicakes and I –” Lupin started, but Jigen cut him off.

“No one wants to hear how you struck out.”

“Actually –”

“THAT'S HIM!” The waiter from before – the one that had helped Jigen plan his Valentine's surprise – burst into the dining area wearing only his briefs and undershirt. Surely, the man had more to wear than that? He pointed at Lupin, “That's the guy that stole my uniform!”

“Got to go,” Lupin said.

“Leave the pot,” Jigen said. Lupin set the coffee pot down, and turned to run. Jigen laughed. “Where should we meet, boss?” The situation was absurd. Where could he go? They were still a couple days from the islands. Still well out to sea.

“Uh... Paris, three weeks,” the thief called as he jumped over a table, overturned it in his wake in an attempt to slow down his pursuers. There were a couple of burly looking crew members heading in Lupin's direction.

“Aren't you going to join in Pops? Thrill of the chase and all?” Jigen asked.

The inspector considered, but shook his head. “No. I'm on vacation. And besides, he just told me where I can find him. I'll catch up to all of you in France.”

Jigen and Goemon exchanged a look. They both know _Paris in three weeks_ was code for _Cancun in about a month_. Jigen chuckled, knowing Pops would be on the wrong continent, half a world away when the time came.

“Who was that guy?” Jigen asked the new waiter that had come to take his order. The gunman wanted to distance himself a bit, just enjoy his breakfast.

“Some stowaway. He cleaned out our gift shop, a few of the bars. We can't figure out where he put it all. He's caused a lot of trouble for us.”

“Sounds like a handful,” Jigen said. “I'll take the steak and eggs...” Jigen ordered for himself, and what he thought she would like. Then added, “And I'll take it to-go, or you can have room service bring it down, which ever is easier for you.”

“Leaving us, Jigen?” Goemon asked.

“Of course. On my honeymoon, remember? Got things to attend to...”

“Koichi,” a woman's voice. She came up behind the inspector, and put her arms around his broad shoulders.

“Oh, hello,” the inspector, turned his head, kissed her cheek. Jigen was impressed Pops had caught the eye of a woman like that. She trailed a finger down one of the inspector's sideburns, across his strong jaw.

“They think they are going to play shuffleboard. Because I hate it, they think I won't follow them there. So come, now, help me beat them at their own game, and then later you and I can play something else.”

Pops stood, said, “Stay out of trouble,” to the two outlaws, and left holding her hand, and without a backwards glance.

“What do you think she sees in him?” Jigen asked.

“They like men in uniform?” Goemon guessed.

A waitress came by, gave a wink to the samurai. Goemon followed her with his eyes as she crossed the room, and when she reached the kitchen door she jerked her head, beckoning him to follow.

“I am being summoned. Tell Cupcake hello.”

“Oh, yeah? I'll tell her. Enjoy yourself.”

Goemon left Jigen there alone among the empty plates. He refilled his mug as he waited for his food, stared out the window at the water.

What a trip this had been.

His ring clinked against the mug, but this time the noise made him smile.

What a lucky man he was.

What a woman.

His woman.

His Cupcake.

He hoped the kitchen would hurry up with his order. He had to get back to his cabin.

His wife was waiting.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. Comments welcome.


End file.
